Page 29 of Craving Paradise

My eyes track Lauren as she dances with the other girls on the dance floor after Ines and Joe leave to set up for her show. The number of men hovering around the dance floor waiting for the most opportune time to make their move on the girls has me gripping my glass tumbler harder than I normally would. I watch in utter fascination as her hips sway to the beat of the music, the hem of her dress flicking up, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of that tanned ass.

“Someone’s caught your eye.” Daniel notices, nudging me.

“No, they haven’t. I’m watching to make sure no creeps are looking to interrupt the girls’ dancing. They should be able to dance together without guys trying to muscle in.”

Daniel chuckles. “You’re such a liar. The dark-haired girl … you haven’t been able to stop staring at her all night.”

Fuck. I thought I wasn’t being obvious staring at her.

“I’m not fucking blind, Dan. She’s gorgeous, but I’m not interested. She has a relationship written all over her.”

Lies. Lies. Lies.

“You might be right, as she hasn’t stopped glancing at you, either. It’s probably for the best. Autumn would get upset if you fucked with one of her friends again,” Daniel warns me.

“You need to stop flirting with my sister, do you hear me?” I retort. Now it’s my turn to warn my friend.

Daniel bursts out laughing. “We do it to wind you up. We aren’t interested in each other.”

My eyes narrow on him because I don’t believe him.

“Jasper. Come on, I’m telling you the truth. Your sister is a beautiful woman, I won’t deny that, but I’m not interested, and neither is she. I’ve got enough on my plate with my brother and his life imploding since his marriage collapsed.” Daniel sighs.

He’s right. Dan’s been going through it lately. His half-brother, who he’s only found out existed a couple of years ago when his mother confessed on her deathbed, shattered his world. He didn’t know he had more family out there—he grew up as an only child. His father was furious and cut him out of his life when Dan wanted to find out who his half-brother was. When he found out who he was, he was blown away. The famous French artist, Louis Marchant, was his brother. The insane thing is the two of them have met many times over the years because of their careers. Daniel owns his own gallery in Mayfair and also runs his own artist management company from there. He didn’t know his half-brother was under his nose all this time. Louis is having a hard time now. His wife ran off with his protégé, and they’re now happily posing for photos all over the world as if they haven’t broken Louis’ heart. Daniel is Louis’ manager, and watching his artist and brother self-destruct has been weighing on him recently.

Who needs to get married when shit like this happens?

“Well then, we need to drink up and forget all our worries. We’re in fucking Ibiza,” I profess, raising my glass.

The girls head back to their table, and I notice Freya is looking a little worse for wear compared to the other two. I’ll have to monitor her.

Once they take their seats, the staff comes out with a magnum bottle of champagne with sparklers attached, and the girls whoop and holler as they train their phones on the spectacle before them. The bar girls dance around in their skimpy attire as they raise the bottle of champagne high in the air. My sister calls us over to join them. I sit beside my sister and opposite Lauren, and Daniel takes the other end next to Freya.

“Can you talk dirty to me in French?” Freya asks Daniel as he sits down.

“Freya.” I blanch at the drunkenness.

“Hush, manwhore, I don’t need any judgment from you,” Freya states angrily.

My attention turns to where Daniel is sitting with a big grin on his face, trying to keep his laughter under control.

“Don’t you dare.” I point at my friend.

“Shut the hell up, Jay,” Freya curses at me before placing her chin on her hands and fluttering her eyelashes at Daniel. “Pretend he isn’t even here.”

“It’s a little hard when I can feel his eyes boring into me.” Daniel chuckles.

“You’re such a cunt blocker,” Freya yells at me as she folds her arms across her chest and pouts.

Lauren leans over and tries to pull my cousin from her mood, and it doesn’t take long until Freya is laughing again, her request to my friend long forgotten.

“Don’t get any ideas,” my sister says, nudging me as she knocks back the last of her champagne.

“I’m not.”

She shakes her head, giving me an unconvincing glare.

“What’s next after Ibiza?” I question her, changing the subject.

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