I cringed at my red reflection. The flames dancing across my skin only seemed to get hotter during dinner, a result of both Will’s charm and my sunburn. I’d tried to cool down with a shower after we finished eating, but the water stung in all the wrong places.

After thirty excruciating minutes, I was clean and dressed in my usual yoga pants, but my nightshirt sat on the counter. I couldn’t bear the thought of covering my shoulders. Sleeping naked would be my preference in these conditions, but that seemed like trouble with Will so close.

I plucked a pale pink camisole from my suitcase. It was thin and meant to be worn underneath a blouse, but it would do. I pulled the light fabric over my head and didn’t bother with a bra, then gently combed my hair. Normally, I would dry it, but the cool strands felt heavenly against my burn.

A chirp sounded from my purse. Voicemail. I hadn’t checked my phone all day thanks to Will’s unexpected field trip. Work had probably called for an update since we were scheduled to leave for France tomorrow night. Thankfully, everything was ready—or at least, we were as prepared as we could be going into the meetings. More research and discussion would be needed afterward. Janet had considered joining us, but after observing me last week during our final debriefings, she said her assistance wasn’t needed. It’d been the biggest compliment of my career so far.

Hopefully, she hadn’t called to say she’d changed her mind.

No.

It was worse.

Much, much worse.

My blood went from hot to cold as I scrolled over the abundance of messages and missed calls littering my screen. Two words jumped out at me over and over again.

France.

Bitch.

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

Ryan had my airline itinerary.

And he was furious.

There was something about a wedding announcement and engagement pictures. All things I never agreed to and never would.

The messages blurred as I continued to run through them. Eighty-seven missed calls. All him. Nothing from work. They wouldn’t have been able to get through with his incessant redialing. When the phone started to ring in my hand, my eyes narrowed. So, what—now he could tell when I was touching the damn mobile? My limbs shook with a mix of fear and fury as his ringtone sang through the room.

I couldn’t believe this was happening again. He’d been like this right after the breakup. Constantly calling, dropping by, and checking up on me at all hours of the night. They were some of the most terrifying months of my life, but eventually he backed off. Not entirely, and never for long periods, but he gave me space. He started dating other women, something he enjoyed flaunting in my face. I only cared because I feared for them, but he was never with the women long enough to own them. Not in the way he owned me.

The ringing stopped.

I waited.

And it began again.

He’d texted a few times throughout the week and called once, but I’d never replied. Mostly because he had messaged me when I was with Will but also because I didn’t feel that immediate pull to respond.

Something about being here had emboldened me enough to ignore Ryan. That had to be a first. I hadn’t even really thought about him all week. Will consumed my every moment, and I’d actually felt relaxed. Happy, even.

Seeing Ryan’s name flash on my screen was a shock to my system, but it lacked the usual punch. Instead, something else flared inside of me. A long-buried annoyance that I could no longer contain.

His ringtone started singing for the third time.

A scream tightened my throat, but my lips refused to let it loose.

No.

No more.

Maybe it was my week with Will that bolstered my confidence, or the terror ripping through my veins at the very real proof of Ryan spying on me. Or maybe I’d finally reached my breaking point and my mind had cracked. Or perhaps all of the above.

My finger hovered over the answer button.

What would he do? Waltz into Will’s house and beat me? Show up in France unannounced and drag me home to an impromptu wedding? He couldn’t wait for me at my apartment. I had no return ticket scheduled yet. Just a one-way booking to France. We would be staying at a Mershano Suites, of course. Ryan could follow me there, and then what? He was in the middle of gearing up for a Senate run. A public disturbance in another country wouldn’t bode well for his political career. Even insane, he had to know that.

My jaw clenched as a fresh text rolled across my screen.

Pick. Up. The. Fucking. Phone.

I rolled my shoulders and waited. When his number flashed again, I answered.

“You fucking—”

“No,” I snapped, cutting him off. “You do not get to call and scream at me for no fucking reason. This ends now, Ryan. I’m done. We are done.”

Silence. This tactic always unnerved me, but not tonight. I felt elated. High, even. I couldn’t believe all those words had spilled out of my mouth, and with such fervor too. I didn’t necessarily raise my voice, but my tone brooked no argument.

I’d just called off our wedding. Again.

And it felt amazing.

“Stop calling me,” I continued, the words tumbling out before I could think them through. “Stop texting me. Just, stop.”

His blue eyes were undoubtedly storming right about now. That right hand clenched into a fist. His brow pinched. I could picture it clearly. Ryan Albertson was an attractive man, with his aristocratic features, artfully styled hair, and broad shoulders. I’d been drawn to him immediately. But beneath that flawless skin lay a monster, and I knew from experience that it was clawing to the surface right now.

You’re safe here, my conscience whispered. The rolling in my stomach settled at the certainty in that thought. Ryan couldn’t touch me. There would be hell to pay later, but I’d worry about that when the time came. Which would, hopefully, not be soon.

“Okay, Rachel.” His neutral tone sent a chill down my spine. Oh yeah, I’d well and truly pissed him off. “We’ll talk soon.”

I opened my mouth to repeat my comments about not calling me anymore, but the line went dead before I could utter a word. The phone slipped from my hand and bounced on the bed. My throat convulsed.

I’d done it.

I’d stood up to Ryan.

The room spun as a foreign sensation settled deep in the pit of my stomach.

“It’s done,” I whispered to no one in particular.

A laugh escaped my throat, part mad, part elated. I couldn’t believe it. For the first time in years, I’d talked back to Ryan. It’d been so long since I dared to try, too terrified of the repercussions. But even though I knew he’d punish me later, I couldn’t bring myself to react. Fear lingered on the precipice of my thoughts, looking for a weak point and finding none.

For the first time in a very long time, I felt untouchable. Strong. Daring. Confident.

The curtains at the open balcony door fluttered in the night breeze, beckoning me forward. And in that moment, I knew what I wanted. Whom I wanted. I’d fought it from the moment I met him. I was terrified to acknowledge the undeniable attraction radiating between us, scared of allowing myself to fall for a powerful man, and worried I might get him hurt in the process. But not anymore.

It was as if courage had finally found me again. I felt light, exuberant, and stronger than I’d been in longer than I cared to remember. Like I could conquer the world, or maybe just a sexy-as-sin millionaire.

I started walking before I could talk myself out of it, slipping out onto the balcony and over to his open door. Soft light spilled through the curtains. This is it. I knocked against the glass to announce my presence before entering. Will stood next to his bed, right where I wanted him, and turned with a knowing grin. He’d expected me to come to him. That should have irritated me, but it didn’t. His confidence drew me to him like a moth to a flame. Influential men were my kryptonite. That’s why I avoided them.

“Hmm, I thought you might stop by.” He patted the oversized mattress. “On the bed, darlin’. I’ll be back.”

He didn’t look to see if I would comply, just sauntered off towards his bathroom in nothing but a pair of low-slung gray sweatpants. My throat went dry at the sight of all that tanned muscle on display. The man was a god and he knew it.

“Bed,” he repeated before disappearing through the French doors. The single-word command was uttered without him even looking at me. He knew I was ogling him instead of complying. What would he do if I refused the demand? I shivered. Maybe I would test that query another day, but not tonight.

I sat on the quilt with my legs hanging over the side and waited for him to return. The bottle in his hand surprised me almost as much as the towel in his other. I eyed the items curiously, wondering what kink he had in mind for our first time. He set the towel beside my hip as he came to stand in front of me.

One knee slid between mine, followed by a second, forcing me to spread my thighs wide to accommodate him between my legs. The dominance in that single act sent a rush of wet heat to my center. My chest rose and fell in anticipation of what he intended to do next. The bottle clicked open. It wasn’t labeled, so I had no idea what to expect, but the sweet aroma calmed my nerves. Will squeezed a quarter’s worth of off-white cream onto his palm before setting the lotion aside.

“Close your eyes and don’t move.” His low voice slid over me in a hypnotic caress. Oh, yes, please. My lids fell shut. “Now, I warned you about your hat, darlin’. Just remember that.”

I frowned. “Wh—”

Something blessedly cool touched my forehead, cutting me off. A tingling sensation ignited as his skilled fingers massaged circles over my eyebrows and up into my hairline. It felt amazing, until it didn’t.

“Whoa.” I jerked back, eyes flying open, to find him shaking his head.

“I foresee bondage in our future.”

I ignored that particular comment and focused on his torture bottle. “What the fuck is that?”

“It’s cocoa butter blended with aloe vera. The sting is the moisturizer, which you need right now.” He squirted more onto his hand and cocked an eyebrow. “Now, are you going to stay still, or do I need to tie you to the bed?”

Oh, shit.

This was not going to end well.