Page 50 of Heartless Sinner

“Here!” Elodie called, weaving through a cluster of guys with two glasses of rosé on ice balanced above her head.

When none of them bothered moving, she accidentally sloshed wine across one of their shirts.

“Fucking bitch,” one muttered as the group stepped aside.

“Move next time then,” she shot back.

She finally reached me and handed over a glass. “Go easy on it, okay?”

I paused my dancing and stuck out my lower lip. “That sounds boring.”

She took one look at me, then at the rosé in my hand. “Do you remember the last party we attended on this yacht? We are not having a repeat.”

I tapped my chin, pretending not to remember.

I do remember. And it’s bad.

A week after my father went to prison, I’d gotten drunk, made out with some random guy, then puked over the side of the yacht before Elodie dragged me back to the castle.

Grandfather had been thrilled when he heard that story the next day.

“I haven’t gotten that drunk since that night,” I said, clinking my glass against hers. “It was a very effective learning experience.”

Elodie glanced over my shoulder. “I’m afraid it’ll happen because he’s here.”

I turned to follow her stare.

Brooks leaned against the railing like the yacht belonged to him, ankles crossed and a drink hanging loosely from his hand. The wind tossed his hair across his forehead, making him look annoyingly good.

He caught me staring almost instantly. As if he’d been waiting for me to notice him, he lifted his glass in a slow, mocking toast.

Asshole.

“Why the hell is he here?” I didn’t even realize I’d drained my drink until it was gone.

“For you, obviously,” Elodie answered.

“No, he isn’t.”

“Girl, come on. I have eyes and brains.”

“I’ll just ignore him. Act like he isn’t here.”

Sure, Daphne.

Because that worked so well every other time.

“I’ll take that not happening for two hundred dollars.” She paused, drink almost to her lips. “Isn’t that the saying in the States?”

“You know pop culture better than me.” I bumped her with my shoulder, staring into my glass and wishing it’d magically refill itself. “That’s why you should come to the States with me.”

“My future is here.” Her smile turned sad before she brightened up. “But, hey, at least we have pretty views and yacht parties.”

“True.”

“Besides, you’ll be back here soon.” She tilted her chin toward Brooks. “Now, let’s return to our current problem. The man is staring you down like a shark ready to attack.”

“That’s his usual stare when it comes to me.” I waved a hand and turned my back to him. “Nothing new.”