“—when you tell the truth about that day and how I got this scar.”
I opened my mouth—to say what, I didn’t know—but nothing came.
When the voice of reason told me to leave that time, I listened.
I walked away from Carter Knight.
Again.
CARTER
I paced the length of the terrace, zeroed in on a single girl through the glass.
Belle sat in the dining room, munching on a plate of hash browns and runny eggs. Across from her, laughing at a joke she made, was some shithead. Zeke? Zach? Who cares?
Every thirty seconds, Belle paused to sip from her teacup—pinky in the air like she used to do when we were kids. Just one in the many ways she was a contradiction.
She tossed that pinky up. Covered her mouth when she laughed. Said please and thank you with the best of them. Always sat ankles-crossed like the daughter of the dame should.
Yet somehow, this was the same person wearing an oversized teal T-shirt cut to reveal her shoulders, a black sequin skirt, and stilettos to double as a murder weapon. She cussed to put a nun in a coma, won an all-you-can-eat vegan hot dog challenge (according to an Instagram page that I only looked at out of curiosity), and was the most twisted, devious person you’d ever have the displeasure of meeting. Belle would rip your heart out and use the blood to sweeten her tea.
The devil with fashion sense and a high-class pedigree.
“What the hell is his problem?” I heard Preston ask.
The three of us were outside awaiting the start of the first event. Mrs. Desai fluttered around, overseeing the placement of the chairs and tables, and all-around making people doing an easy, menial task more nervous than they needed to be.
Nathan came over, getting in my path. “Two words,” he said to Preston. “Let me guess, C, you skipped breakfast to confront Belle and she reduced you to half the man I see before me.”
“Fuck off!”
“A simple yes would do.”
Growling, I sought her again. I hadn’t seen Belle in person in four years. Time had transformed her in every way. A long, silken braid wrapped around her shoulder and hung between her breasts. Shapelier breasts than I remembered to go with the new curves and lines her body formed. Her voice was deeper. Her lily-green eyes bigger. And her mouth—
“I missed you.” Phantom lips tickled my throat. “You still smell so good.”
“Argh!” I clawed at my neck, raking red lines over her invisible mark.
Where the fuck does she get off saying that to me? Telling me she wants to be friends and then turning her back on me. Saying she did what she did that day because she loved me? What a load of crap.
“Dude.” Preston clapped my shoulder. “May I suggest you stop glaring like you’re trying to set her on fire? Belle may not have noticed but everyone else has.”
I tore away from her, and took in the sideways glances and open stares.
“What do you see in her, D?” I swung my head to him. “She trashed your favorite painting, refuses to date you, cracked your nose, and is wrecking your chances with Delilah. You fucked her and got it out of your system. Just move on.”
“I haven’t begun to get Belle out of my system. And I told you already, I’m not giving up until you give me a reason.”
My hand moved to touch my scar.
Too late. Hers was already there. Featherlight as she stood in that hallway and stroked the end of our friendship.
“Preston. Boys.” Mrs. Desai called us over. “Come have a seat. We start in a few minutes.”
I pushed past him, heading for the seats nearest the sand and swell. Small, two-person tables were arranged in a circle around the courtyard. Today was a full day and it began with two-minute introductions. Mrs. Desai labeled the chairs for the girls, leaving the guys to get up and move around every two minutes.
Preston plopped down across from the seat labeled Belle Adler. I claimed the chair next to it.
BELLE
I felt Carter’s eyes on me all through breakfast. If it was possible to drill a hole in someone with a look, my brains would’ve been leaking on my eggs.
“What’s the history between you two?” Zion asked.
I sipped my tea, using the act to delay my response.
“We moved around a lot,” I began. “Before Bracknell, I lived in Stirling. Before that was Hawk’s Bay.”
“Where Carter used to live?”
I nodded. “We lived there the longest. Six years. Carter and I were best friends for four of them.”
“What happened?”
“What always makes a friendship fall apart. He needed me and I let him down.” I peered at Carter through my lashes, observing him barking at Preston. “He’s been making my life hell ever since.” I inclined my head. “Though I give him credit for taking a break after we went to different high schools.”
“Shit. By the looks of it, he hasn’t forgiven and forgotten.”
“Why would he?” I whispered. “I haven’t earned forgiveness.”
“Good morning, everyone.” Carter was gone and Mrs. Desai stood in his place. Preston’s mother was a beautiful lady—that was as much a fact as the sun setting in the west. Pretty and beach-ready in a light pink summer dress and matching sandals, she secured her hat from the wind with a pose that belonged in a magazine. “First up on your schedules is two-minute introductions. Everything we do this summer is designed to help you get to know each other better, and prepare you for the challenges and responsibilities of being a spouse.
“As such, some activities will be mixed and a few will be just for the girls or boys. Tomorrow morning, I’ll steal the girls away for a private session. Boys, you’ll have a separate task to complete as well. If you have any questions as we go along, feel free to ask me or Mr. Hendrix.
“All right, let’s get underway. Ladies, please find your seats. Gentlemen, sit anywhere.”
I downed the remains of my tea and fell in behind Zion, Mila, and Delilah Winthrop herself. I studied her beautiful back of the head, thinking of Preston’s surprise visit to my room. The way he made it sound, he was marrying Delilah because he had to, not because he wanted to. That should have made things simple. I understood being forced into an arranged marriage. But honestly, it served up more problems.
Leaving aside that he may have gotten me into bed for a bet, he said Delilah believed she owned him, and I needed nowhere near a situation like that. Jealous, possessive people didn’t believe that too far was far enough. I was creating a whole case of drama all on my own this summer. Inviting more from Delilah and her fiancé-to-be read bad idea all over it.
Even if he’s sitting at my table, giving me a look like he wants to bend me over it.
“Du Pont-Desai,” I greeted. “Ever notice that your initials are PDPD? Course you did. That’s why you have them stitched into your sheets.”
“Brought the same sheets here if you want to take them for another spin.”
I sat down, crossing my legs at the ankles, and smiling sweet. To anyone watching we were having a nice chat. “I’m going to pass on that, but thanks for the offer.”
“No problem.” Preston leaned over the table, hands out like he wanted me to take them. “I’ve got seven days left.”