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Sebastian pulls two bottles of Perrier from an industrial-sized fridge. “No, Kiersten is doing that now. She’ll start dinner as soon as she gets back.”

Of course, he flew his private chef up here, as well.

He hands me a bottle. I take a sip, feeling more awed than I want to admit.

“So, what would you like to do now?” he asks, sitting on a stool at the enormous island. “Work, or settle into your room?”

“Can I take a walk on the beach?”

Sebastian looks surprised at the question. “Of course, you can. You’re not a prisoner here. You don’t have to ask.”

“Honestly, I feel like I’m in a luxury hotel. I don’t want to touch anything.”

Sebastian’s laugh is loud and rich. His eyes crease with amusement. “It’s not a hotel, and you don’t have to be afraid. It’s just a house.”

My cynical laugh tells him precisely what I think about that statement.

I head out the back door onto the patio. It stretches past an outdoor kitchen and an enormous pool. I follow the manicured lawn down to the beach and slip off my shoes at the edge of the sand, my feet sinking into the soft warmth.

I’ve always loved the beach as an abstract idea. But the fact is, I’m a workaholic. I can’t remember the last time I took a vacation, not that this is a vacation.

What the hell am I doing here?

This mission was supposed to be a professional rescue, but somehow, it’s turned into this: standing on a private beach in the Hamptons on the precipice of the Fourth of July weekend.

I’m starting to trust Sebastian in a way I shouldn’t. I’m beginning to desire his company, always trying to wring a smile out of him and banish his serious expression. I look forward to seeing him and spending the day with him.

This is so beyond the terms we agreed to. This is dangerous territory. In another week, I need to be able to walk away without my heart being shattered. Sebastian might have been a knight in shining armor that night with Mom, but he’s still a man who can break my heart, like all the others.

I watch the horizon grow darker, the seabirds silhouetted against the shimmering whitecaps. I take deep, slow breaths until all I can hear in my head is the crash of the waves in and out.

When I finally head back inside, I’m met by the smell of steak and garlic. My stomach growls.

Sebastian is at the range, a dish towel over his shoulder, spooning butter over a steak sizzling in a cast iron pan.

“Are you cooking?” I blink. “I thought Kiersten was making dinner.”

He glances over his shoulder. “I decided to give her the night off. I haven’t cooked in a long time, and I felt like it tonight.”

I wander closer. “You cook?”

“Not very often anymore, but I do enjoy it.”

We take our plates outside, sitting at one corner of the long teak table. We eat and drink wine that came up from the wine cellar, which I have yet to see. We talk casually, carefully steering clear of anything that has to do with work.

The moon rises, its silver light painting a pathway over the water. It’s quiet, save for the crickets, frogs, and the rhythmic rolling of the waves. I’m so entirely aware of the man sitting across from me. Aware of his presence, of the way he looks so at home here, the candlelight golden on his skin and the breeze rustling his hair. It’s a scene that cannot help but be romantic.

I have to be so careful. I can’t fall for the man sitting across from me. He’s the Ice King, and I still don’t know whether who I’m seeing here is the real man hiding beneath the mask or just another tactic to get what he wants.

In a little over a week, we’ll meet our deadline, and one way or the other, we will part ways.

When that happens, I have to be able to walk away with my heart intact.

21

ISABELLA

“Okay, I’m done.”