Page 12 of Beautifully Wild

Possum!

“Bree and Yasmine will meet us downstairs,” Amy says, emerging from the bathroom.

I retrieve my phone and drop it in my bag because nothing will dampen my mood. The Copacabana Palace Hotel awaits us. We’re living it up for the last two days of our stay in Rio. It’s a highlight of our holiday, and the idea of experiencing the grandeur is enough to dismiss Ethan’s text. Even more exciting, our new American friends secured tickets for us to attend the Magic Ball—standing tickets only. So, we need to shop for masquerade masks. Yesterday we ventured out and hired long gowns and shoes for the evening. Something we didn’t pack since we never expected to attend. We were simply happy to be staying in the thick of the celebrations.

Hours later, with glittering masks packed in our cases, we head to the Belmond Copacabana Palace Hotel. I’m clinging to the seat of the taxi with every corner taken too fast and too hard, the Samba music blaring.

“Holy fuckeroni,” Amy whispers when we pull up out the front of the hotel.

“It’s even better up close,” Yasmine says, eyes bulging.

“Ladies.” Bree’s sharp tone pulls us back. She coughs and nods to the doorman standing near the taxi. It appears most guests arrive in Mercedes, BMWs, and other luxury cars.

“Obrigada,” Bree says, handing cash to the driver.Thank you.

Standing outside, I stare up to the hotel’s imposing cream façade—a representation of elegance and sophistication. The doorman guides us inside to an opulent lobby. The sparkling chandelier grabs my attention first before a white-gloved hand lifts prompting us toward the reception desk. There are walls of fine marble and floors in mosaic. I consider the rich and famous footsteps we’re following in as we’re led toward the elevator.

We take the elevator to the third level. I stand at the door with Yasmine and smile in anticipation. Bree and Amy walk a little further along the hall to the room next to ours.

We open the door to polished antique furnishings, a marble bathroom, and chocolates on a period desk to welcome us. In unison, we drop our bags and stride to the double doors opening to a Juliette balcony facing the beachfront.

Yasmine exhales dramatically. “Just wow.”

Salt air assaults my senses. The view is enough to make me forget the humidity.

Yasmine opens her arms wide like she’s impersonating Christ the Redeemer statue. “I’m never leaving.”

“Neither am I.” We giggle, then slip back to being mesmerized at the sight of the cerulean ocean, watching surfers and swimmers.

“Want to check out the pool?” Yasmine asks.

“Hell, yeah.” Exploring the hotel is an adventure on its own.

We hang our ball gowns in the closet, change into swimsuits, then don the white bathrobes and slip-ons provided. After notifying the other girls, it’s only a matter of minutes before we’re all sunning ourselves on the loungers surrounding the pool.

Stretched out on the sunbed, the sun warms my ochre skin. The waiter delivers champagne in crystal flutes, and I feel like a friggin’ superstar.

I take a quick dip in the water to cool off and then lie back on my navy and white striped towel.

“Look at us living the life of the rich and famous,” Amy sings.

“I could get used to it, I guess,” Bree says and chuckles.

Slowly, people vacate the pool area, and I assume it’s to prepare for the ball tonight.

“Hey, I’m going to head up and shower first,” I tell Yasmine.

I slip on the white robe without bothering with the ties and hesitate at the winding marble staircase when I hear the elevator door ding. I stride past staff speaking anxiously in their foreign tongue. I assume the fuss is about tonight’s ball.

The doors open, and I rush in then hit the button for the third floor without looking at the guy leaning on the back wall. He steps beside me, so we’re both in line and ready to race through the doors. Awareness shoots along my spine. A forest scent combined with earthy male hits me. I tilt my head toward him, and fire flares inside of me when Samuel’s pure blue eyes lower to meet mine.

A dent forms between his brows. “It’s Eden, right?”

“Yes.” I look away, doing my utmost to ignore the pull between us.

“Water refreshing?”

“Uh-huh.” I keep my focus straight ahead.

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