Kenzi was getting high; Naia was getting ill.

While Kenzi combed through clothing racks in search of her next fix, Naia was mentally tallying the cost of everything she’d piled in their personal dressing room. The room was comfortably sized, lined with mirrors, soft lighting, and a mix of floral scents that were probably pumped in like a drug, lulling clients into a relaxed state of consumerism. There was also a small seating area with a luxurious cabriole sofa.

They’d been handed flutes of Champagne while they’d settled in. An attendant had already asked her twice if she needed a refill. When Kenzi returned with yet another armful of overpriced clothing, she took the attendant up on that offer, jostling her empty glass for emphasis.

From her stack, Kenzi pulled out a blue sheath dress and held it up to her own body, twisting to admire it in the mirror. “Have you found anything you like?”

Naia glanced at her much smaller selection. Two blouses, a pair of form hugging jeans, and one replacement dress, intended for Goldie, all of which cost more than three months’ rent.

Kenzi gazed at her choices in mock horror. “Is that all you’re getting?”

Naia shrugged. “These prices are too much.”

“Blasphemy!” Kenzi went back to rifling through her stash, yanking free a deep maroon wrap dress. “Try this on.”

Naia sighed, doing as requested. They’d been here three hours already, and no matter what protest she might come out with, Kenzi’s fun would not be denied.

Once the dress was on, Kenzi was at the ready with a pair of flesh colored heels and a sparkling diamond-studded necklace that Naia hoped was costume jewelry. She peeked at the price tag and her stomach did a flip. Not costume jewelry!

She went to take it off, but Kenzi pulled her in front of a mirror, and they both gaped.

“That’s the one.” At Naia’s look, she clarified, “That’s the dress you’ll wear tonight.”

Apparently Cortez had something planned later. He’d called her brand new cell phone, which he’d had couriered over, to let her know he had a surprise in store. He wouldn’t say what, just that he was taking her somewhere. Then he’d told her Cole had received a similar phone, and the number was programmed into hers.

After hanging up in a daze, she’d tried the number to verify. Cole answered with a brusque, “I hope you know what you’re doing with this guy.” It seemed a strange vampire dropping off a cellphone so he could “keep in touch with his sister” had been somewhat alarming to her baby brother.

She didn’t admit to Cole that she might very well be in over her head. New clothes and now a personal cell? That seemed a little much for a quick fling. Or maybe Cortez was just so wealthy that the extravagance didn’t even register.

Then Cole lectured her about guys, gifts, and expectations. He finished with, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

She wasn’t the one with a broken finger. She could manage a little heartache if it saved Cole from more run-ins with the twins. All he’d managed was to set her resolve. Then he finished with a muttered, “They say he can read minds.”

“Who says?”

“Goldie. A few of the others have heard it suggested as well.”

“That’s ridiculous.” If he could read minds, he would have kicked her out of his club the day they met. Instead, he’d invited her back, seduced her, and screwed her ever-loving brains out.

“I don’t know if it’s true or not,” Cole continued. “Just please be careful.”

“I will.” Reading minds? Right. And I can harness the power of unicorn farts.

His interaction with Kenzi at breakfast suddenly cut into her thoughts. Kenzi hadn’t said a word, but Cortez had known what she’d wanted. That could be attributed to working closely together for many years. Naia often knew what Cole was thinking before he spoke his thoughts aloud. It inevitably happened when people got close to one another.

As she put the phone away, Kenzi hollered for the attendant. “Wrap it all up and put it in the car.” She indicated the dress Naia still wore. “And ring this up, too. She’ll be wearing it out.”

With that, a small army descended on the dressing room, packing up their purchases and cashing them out in a matter of minutes. Naia almost fainted at the total, though most of the damage was done by Kenzi.

She nearly sighed in relief when it was over and they were tucked back in the convertible. Until Kenzi slammed the gearshift into drive and exclaimed, “Now to the salon!”

That was when the real torture began by a team of beauticians lead by a flamboyant man named Javier with a Spanish accent who probably went through more lipstick and hair products than all the ladies at Dante’s combined. According to him, she needed a cut and color, because her “ends were split” and her look “needed updating.” (His hair was swept up in an exaggerated style from a bygone era.) He snippily informed her that her nails were “wrecked” and she clearly “gnawed on them constantly.” (His nails were black, long, and sharpened like daggers.) Oh, and her unibrow—she did NOT have a unibrow—required “mowing.” He gleefully tweezed her like a sadist until the pain made her want to slap a bitch.

The pedicure was nice, until the pedicurist decided the pads of her feet needed a heavy duty scrubbing, and then it was death by tickle.

By the time they were finished with her, she was exhausted. Conversely, Kenzi, who’d undergone the same treatment, seemed relaxed. Amazing.

“Wasn’t that wonderful,” she sighed.

Yeah, if by wonderful she meant emotionally scarring.

Javier swept into the room. “You are like shiny new pennies, no? My little chicklings, I give birth to you and send you off into the world. Go now, fly free. Break the hearts, yeah?”

Kenzi and Javier air-kissed each other’s cheeks. “You’re the best, Javier,” Kenzi said.

“I know this.” He gave a theatrical wave of his hand. “When are you going to send my boyfriend to me? Tell him I give him special massage.” He winked.

“You know Cortez doesn’t swing that way.”

“He would when I get done with him. Once you go Spanish, your other preferences vanish.”

Naia laughed at that. Now that he wasn’t having her tortured, she could actually find his colorful personality endearing. She wasn’t at all surprised that he had a crush on Cortez. The man was sex on a stick, after all.

An understatement, she found twenty minutes later when Kenzi pulled up to the small fenced-off airstrip just outside of town. Several yards away, Cortez stood under the spinning blades of a black helicopter, the rushing air barely disturbing his dark tailored suit, but brushed through his hair like a lover’s caress. So regal and confident, he looked in all regards like the world would do well to bow down at his feet.

The second she stepped from the vehicle, his enigmatic amber eyes lit on her. Arms that had been folded stiffly around the wide expanse of his chest deflated to his sides. Yet tension made his posture rigid. Her heart jumped with excitement at seeing him. Stupid heart.

Though she knew she was imagining it, their time apart seemed like years rather than hours; their pending reunion sizzling with something unnamed. Starting toward them, his ardent eyes took in her formfitting dress and brown wavy locks enhanced by golden highlights.

Smiling, she spun, giving him a three-sixty view. His gaze consumed her like the sun ate through darkness, thoroughly and without compromise. She swallowed, losing her breath under his avid stare.

She didn’t even realize she was moving toward him till they met halfway. At the way he was drinking her in, she figured he would have swept her up for a heated kiss, at the very least, draw her close, but he did neither.

Instead, he reached out to balance the weight of the dazzling necklace on his fingers—the one she’d forgotten to remove! To Kenzi, he said, “Diamonds. I assume I’m now bankrupt?”

Naia gasped in horror. “Oh, no! I forgot to take this off before leaving the store.” Clumsily, her fingers fumbled with the clasp. “It’s not real though, right? Surely it’s glass or cubic zirconia.” Wishful thinking—the price tag suggested otherwise.

As she slid the piece off, Kenzi replied, “La Parfait doesn’t deal in cheap knockoffs. And stop teasing her, Cortez. It was like pulling teeth to get her to buy anything at all.”

Cortez’s brow arched as he studied her anew.

“I only needed a couple of things,” she said, feeling weird for defending her lack of spending his money. She held the necklace out to Kenzi. “Here. Return it.”

Ignoring her, Kenzi went on. “I had to pretend the large pile of clothing I’d gathered was for me!”

Naia’s jaw dropped, her hand still cupping the necklace. “All that was for me!? You’re insane. There had to be more than thirty outfits there. I’m only going to be here for a week!”

Cortez chimed in. “A week, huh? Is that all I’m allotted? Better make the best of it then.” He jerked his head at the helicopter. “Kenzi, fit what you can in the storage compartment.”

While Naia stood speechless and stunned, Kenzi pulled out select bags and boxes of clothing, transferring them to the copter. Cortez took the too-expensive necklace from her grip, stepped behind her, and fastened it once more around her neck. Then he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “These few hours apart, I’d convinced myself I’d fabricated your beauty. Yet here you are, proving me wrong.”

His tone was decadent and rich, sin and chocolate, and the compliment pleased her more than it should. She couldn’t prevent a tiny smile, even as their implied transport wrapped a thread of terror around her lungs. “We’re not flying in that, are we?”

He hooked his arms around her like she’d wanted him to do in the first place, but now it seemed more like he was doing it to prevent her from bolting, which she had to admit was a real possibility.

“Have you ever been in a helicopter?”

She shook her head, though, as it seemed, that was about to change. “Is it necessary? Can’t we drive to wherever we’re going?”

“I want to get there before the sun sets.”

She glanced at the sun, well into its evening dive. How far did they have to travel that he worried about the losing the light? When she asked, he just smiled and told her it was a surprise, then he guided her into the helicopter, bags of clothes, her clothes, apparently loaded.

Glancing at Kenzi out the window, Naia placed her hand on the window in a silent plea for help. Kenzi merely waved goodbye before driving off, the tires kicking up a plume of dust that was quickly carried away by the helicopter’s manufactured air current.

“Your heart is racing.” Cortez grabbed her by the hand.

She abandoned the window to gaze at him, knowing her eyes had to be as wide as saucers.

“Don’t worry. You are perfectly safe.” He claimed that with total confidence, even as he’d had to yell it over the ruckus made by the metal beast that had them trapped. “Mendez is the best pilot within twenty miles!” When that didn’t seem to ease her, he added, “I’ve got you.”

The beast lurched heavenward. A caustic squeal escaped her, and her heart hammered even harder. After a moment of unnatural elevation that made her head swim, she realized she was digging her nails into Cortez’s hand.

He made no complaint.

With effort, she eased her death-grip. Then she glanced out the window, watching with amazement as the earth glided away. It was frightening, but also beautiful, with all the treetops fanning out like a choppy green sea, the roads splitting off like the workings of a spider’s web, the cars, growing more distant and appearing more like ants than two-ton vehicles. When the first sign of clouds dashed past her window, her terror had waned, morphing into gaping awe.

The whole time, Cortez watched her with a pleased expression, as though enjoying her reactions. She tried to tamp down her building excitement—where was he taking her?—but when she saw the edge of the ocean, she practically bounced in her seat with restlessness, unable to tear her gaze away. Though they lived but miles from the water, she’d only ever seen it from a distance, and never from this high up.

As that great wide expanse grew even closer, she gave Cortez a quizzical look. Was he taking her somewhere that overlooked the Pacific? He responded with a clandestine smile, giving nothing away.

Finally, when they were practically over the ocean, the view more than she could process, they began their descent. Terror returned as she watched the earth careening back at them, unable to look away lest her inattention caused them to crash—an irrational notion, but undeniable all the same.

The landing was much softer than she’d anticipated. At the sound of the blades above slowing, she let out a long, relieved breath. Then an electrified thrill skittered through her—the ocean was just yards away! She wanted to race for that sandy beach to see if it was as soft as it looked. Would the water be warm or cool?

“You’ve never been to see the ocean,” Cortez guessed.

Was it that obvious?

“Vacations are a luxury,” she said by way of explanation, practically yanking off her seatbelt. He wasted no time in shoving the door open and helping her out. But instead of leading her to the ocean, they headed in the opposite direction.

When she tugged on his arm, he said, “We have a little way to drive yet. Ten minutes at most.”

Glancing back at the ocean, forlorn, she wanted to protest, but Cortez hustled her into the back of a stretch SUV. Inside was like a compact club complete with neon-blue lighting that lit up a fully stocked bar that took up the entire length of the interior’s left side.

At her look, he said, “Ostentatious, I know. It was all I could get on short notice.”

“You think I’m balking?”

He chuckled. “No, I think you’re thinking it’s too much.”

She was, but she didn’t satisfy him with her confirmation, though he could probably read it on her face.

“Just wait till you see what’s next,” he muttered under his breath.

Opposite the bar was a soft, cushioned bench that wrapped smoothly along the back of the vehicle, allowing for six or more people to sit comfortably. The whole area was partitioned off from the driver, who apparently already knew where they were going since Cortez hadn’t offered directions.

Once they were settled, they headed onto a long stretch of road with the impressive sea to their left. Sandy beaches taunted her. “Can’t we stop for a minute? Just so I can put my feet in?”

He handed her a flute of Champagne, which she took out of politeness, but she didn’t intend to drink. “I promise you’ll have plenty of time to experience the ocean where we’re going.”

“And where is that?”

A secretive grin played around his lips. He didn’t respond.

Compared to the flight, the drive was reasonably short, but just as frustrating. Seeing the ocean, and not being able to touch it was driving her nuts. So close, and yet so far.

Finally, when the anticipation seemed all but too much, they pulled up to a marina where several large boats were docked. “Which one is yours?”

His eyes lit with amusement at her assumption, and he pointed to a particularly exotic looking, three tiered yacht that towered above the rest.

She chuckled. “Of course.”