Page 13 of Seduced By You

“I gave up my bank-robbing days right before we met. Sorry. You’re out of luck.”

“Ohh. You’re getting better, Kingcaid. We’ll turn you into a sarcasm champ yet.”

“Learned at the knee of a master.” He tapped the pen on the desk. “Spill.”

“I need clothes. For the wedding.”

He gestured for me to get on with it. “Aaannnddd? You want time off? You got it.”

“Well, yes. But more than that. I’d like a man’s opinion.”

It dawned on him what I was asking. He sat up straight, a look I could only describe as horror leaching across his face. “No. Nope. Not a chance. I hate clothes-shopping for myself. I’m not doing it voluntarily for someone else. Not even you. Besides, I know nothing about female… attire. Dresses and shoes and purses. Ask Liam. He’s far more suited to this than I am. Tell him I said it was okay for him to take off for a few hours.”

Liam was the executive chef for our VIP restaurant and a self-confessed fashionista. His abject excitement when Kadon had first introduced me as the new VIP Operations Manager still made me chuckle. Liam had clapped his hands like a performing seal and gushed about what a fan he was of mine and how he adored everything I’d done and how brilliantly I wore clothes. On and on, he’d extolled my so-called virtues while Kadon had stood off to one side, an amused grin lifting the corners of his mouth.

But I didn’t want Liam’s opinion, as valid as it would be. I wanted Kadon’s. And I hadn’t a clue why.

“I don’t want Liam. I want you.”

Kadon’s entire demeanor changed in the time it took me to blink. His hazel eyes brightened, dread replaced by a spark of enthusiasm that had been absent a few seconds ago. Huh? Why was he happy I’d rather go with him than Liam? Kadon was the one who’d suggested Liam in the first place.

The more I got to know Kadon Kingcaid, the less I understood him. I was probably reading too much into it, my nerves at this stupid upcoming wedding playing with my emotions. At least ten times a day, I swung between anguish at making such a stupid decision and pride in myself for calling Benedict’s bluff and accepting the invitation to attend. I wished I’d been there when Fenella’s parents told him I’d RSVP’d. I’d bet his jaw had hit the floor.

Good. The more I made him doubt he knew me, the more fun I’d have at his expense. Bastard deserved it for what he’d done to me.

Although… these last couple of weeks, or maybe longer, I’d started to get this feeling. Sort of like… relief. That might not be the right word, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Almost as if, had I gone through with the wedding, I’d have regretted it.

I’d been sosureBenedict was The One. Even after he had dumped me, leaving me crying on the beach where Kadon had found me and taken me under his wing, I’d spent days sobbing into my pillow, wondering what I’d done wrong.

I cringed to think about it now. I’d donenothingwrong. I hadn’t cheated. I hadn’t chosen a partner based solely on what her father did for a living and how that played into Benedict’s political ambitions. All I’d done was love him and fund his extravagant lifestyle. And for what?

“You really want me to come with you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Duh. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

“Okay.” He moved several bits of paper around on his desk. They ended up in exactly the same position as before he’d started. I almost asked him if he was having an embolism. “Okay, then. Let me… I’ll finish up here, and we can go.”

Thirty minutes later, we were in Kadon’s Aston Martin driving down the coastal road toward Cannes. My favorite boutique was located there, although I hadn’t made a purchase with them for… gosh, it must have been two years or more. They’d kitted me out in the most beautiful Dior gown for the Cannes Film Festival that year. I’d been dating Benedict for about twelve months by that point, and I recalled walking down the red carpet with my arm tucked inside his, flashbulbs blinding me, and feeling this incredible swell of joy. Most of the time, modeling had exhausted me, but that night I remembered as one of the happiest of my life.

Didn’t last long.

I wound down the window and turned my face to the cool breeze. The weather had changed these last few days. I could almost smell winter in the air. It would be my first winter in Saint Tropez. When I’d modeled, I’d usually spent winters in exotic locations. Bikini shots on the beach, aboard fancy yachts, draped across chaise lounges in dresses that cost more than most people’s annual mortgage payments. All very glamorous on the surface, but beneath that, it was the loneliest existence. I’d found it easier to give up than I’d thought I would.

My decision had cost me a relationship with my parents, but it had given me a sense of peace and tranquility I’d never had.

I loved my new life but couldn’t help worrying that what had started out as a temporary position working for Kadon was at risk of turning into a permanent career. I adored working at the beach club, and I met amazing and interesting people—even if a few of them were arseholes—but did I want to work there forever?

No. I didn’t. As for what I’d do instead, I hadn’t the faintest idea. I tried not to worry about it too much. I was only twenty-six. It wasn’t as if I had to figure out right this second what to do with the next fifty years. Twenty-six was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

I glanced at Kadon, his attention fixed on the winding coastal road. He and I were the same age, his future predetermined for him since he was young, in the same way as mine had been. Yet he seemed peaceful, content, and sure of where he was going.

Why couldn’t I be like that? Why had this sudden restlessness attacked me when I’d spent nine months content? Perhaps it was because the end of the season was almost here, and I had a long winter ahead of me to sit with nothing but my thoughts. Kadon wouldn’t be around. He’d be off visiting his other clubs, which left me here alone, with no family, no friends, no company apart from a cat who always looked as if he was plotting the downfall of humanity.

Or perhaps it was knowing that in a couple of weeks, I’d have to face Benedict and smile and congratulate him when all I wanted to do was set a pack of dogs on his genitalia and grab a bucket of popcorn to watch the show.

“You’re making that face.”

Kadon cut into my violent thoughts. I squinted at him. “What face?”

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