But before I can put my plan into action, there's one thing I need to do first—-
"We missed you so much!" Tahey is already sobbing as she throws her arms around me, while our other friend Story scowls and glowers...before giving me a quick, tight hug as well.
"Two years," Story growls as she pulls away. "You refused to see us for two years, and now you call us out of the blue just to say you want us to take you to a party?"
"Can you blame me?" I ask with a teary laugh. "Mom borrowed a mil from you each!"
Story crosses her arms over her chest. "So? I know you're not stupid enough to think we'd blame it on you—-"
"That's exactly why I stayed away. I knew you guys wouldn't blame me at all, but I still feel guilty."
"If you really feel guilty," Tahey says," then promise us you'll never give us the cold shoulder again. Like ever!"
"Because if you do," Story warns, "we're...we're going to punish you—-"
"Please don't," I say without thinking. "I've been punished enough—-"
Shit.
I know right away I've said too much, and the way my friends are suddenly staring at me wide-eyed is proof of it.
"Who's been punishing you?" Story demands.
"It's a man!" Being the hopeless romantic that she is, Tahey is already jumping up and down in glee. "It is, isn't it? And the reason you want to go to Damen Leventis' party is because of this mysterious man."
Shit, shit, shit.
I throw my arms wide open. "Can you give me another hug? I missed you guys so much!"
The other girls laugh.
"We know you're distracting us," Story grumbles, "but whatever."
And that's how I end up playing the fifth wheel as I tag along with Story and Tahey and their respective billionaire husbands.
"How do I look?" I whisper nervously to Story.
"Like your boobs are about to fall out of your gown," my friend whispers back.
"What?"
"And that's exactly why you're wearing it," Story reassures me.
Damen and his wife are at the door to greet their guests, and I'm surprised when the Greek billionaire recognizes me without trouble. "It's nice to see you all together again," he says with a smile.
Our former teacher, however, is as exuberant as always. "Oh my God, yay! Does this mean your self-exile has come to an end? Because—-"
The rest of Mairi's words disappear in her husband's kiss, and when Damen lifts his head, he doesn't miss a beat as he then adds smoothly, "What my wife means to say is that she's just as happy seeing all of you, just like old times."
My friends and I exchange grins. Mairi and Damen were our #couplegoals back in college, and it's nice to see that they're just as cute as ever.
A catering service has been hired to set up a lovely outdoor buffet while fresh summer florals make up the centerpieces adorning the guests' tables. I deliberately stay behind as the other couples head out, all the while trying not to be so obvious as I look around in search of—-
Holy shit!
The sheikh's hard, gold eyes collide with mine from across the garden, and the sudden sight of him leaves me lightheaded. It's only been days, but I feel like I haven't seen him for an eternity. It's almost like I'm seeing him again for the first time, and he's just so damn beautiful I feel like slapping myself.
Is this truly the same man who pointed a gun at my head...before pleasuring me with his mouth all in the same hour?
Most of the guests seem to be aware of his royal status, and the disparity between us has never been more obvious as I watch other people bow and curtsy before talking to him.
I always seem to forget Sheikh Saif is the future king of Huzna every time we're together, but seeing all these rich and famous people treat him with deference is making me question my reasons for seeking him out.
I feel like I'm this ugly duckling gate crashing a fête for swans, and the thought tempts me to run away again. This man is completely out of my league, but just as I'm about to step back, I see the sheikh disengage himself from his adoring fans...and stride straight towards me.
Oh shit.
Is he really heading this way...or is that what he wants me to think, just so he can have the pleasure of walking past me like I'm no different from a stranger? If the sheikh acts like he doesn't know me, I just don't know what I'd do.
Kill him, maybe?
Seduce him then kill him?
Or maybe I should just run—-oh, shit, he's in front of me now, and I...just...can't...breathe!
The whole world seems to fade, and all that's left is him. His heat envelopes me. His scent beguiles me. And when he finally speaks, the sheer sound of his voice is music to my ears—-