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DAHLIA ALDRIDGE

“They are sayingwhat?” Dermot’s sharp demand had my brows raising in concern, his voice going from relaxed to infuriated in a second flat. I honestly hadn’t heard what Lincoln had just said, but that was partly because I was tucked into Stratton’s side, his large jacket wrapped around me as we walked towards the helicopter to fly us into Monaco.

Unfortunately, taking the jet into Monaco wasn’t an option since they didn’t have an airport, so this would take us right to the helipad on the Ross estate. Unfortunately, the five minute drive to this location had not been without problems. Rather the opposite. Somehow it had gotten around that we would be landing, and our car had nearly been swarmed with cameras and questions. I felt bad because it was mainly my fault. I hadn’t thought twice about taking off my sweater and switching into a breezy tank. It was beautiful in France, and the ocean had only made the breeze warmer. While I had been perfectly content, none of us had considered the jumps the media would make when they saw the bruises littering my body. Questions had been thrown at me left and right, so much so that I finally asked for Stratton’s jacket because I felt so self-conscious.

“They have a million fucking conspiracies for the bruises on her arms,” Lincoln growled, tossing his phone towards Dermot, his gaze scanning across the phone before his jaw clenched. I had a feeling the article was far worse than any of us would have imagined.

“They think we did it?” Dermot snapped, looking almost horrified.

“At least they aren’t connecting it to the problems in Ardara,” I murmured. Mr. Ross hadn’t been wrong—despite trying to keep it quiet, the explosion of the warehouse had gained attention from the national media, so I was really glad we weren’t there now.

“There is already a negative light on us because of this video from back home,” King said, “Pair that with what you have gone through in their eyes, being bullied, and they are going to jump on anything they can. I suppose one positive is that they are not viewing you as part of the problem, more the victim, but I would rather they didn’t even say your fucking name.”

“I’m sorry guys.” I shook my head. “I didn’t think twice about taking off my sweater.”

“No,” Sterling warned, “you are not apologizing for wanting to be comfortable. You shouldn’t have to overthink what you’re wearing because of these assholes.”

“Okay,” I murmured, offering a small huff. Yates chuckled next to me, my place between Stratton and him having my body humming with a soft magnetic energy.

As we grew closer to the helicopter, I couldn’t help but appreciate how beautiful the aircraft was. It was matte black with a gold scripted ‘R’ on the side, the family crest outlined below. I had to give the Rosses this—they didn’t let anyone forget who they were, and I found that I loved it a bit more than I expected.

The pilot greeted us as Dermot helped me with protective ear gear and showed me how to talk if I wanted to, although I had a feeling that I would be too busy looking at our gorgeous surroundings. I squeezed between Dermot and Stratton as the boys talked, my eyes on the landscape as we finally lifted off the ground and took off towards our destination.

The ocean below us was bright and vibrant, the sky matching it as the sun turned all of the coastal buildings into a warm, glowing white. A mass of different size yachts dotted the ocean, and I wondered briefly if we were going to go out onto the water while we were here… Honestly, that sounded pretty amazing. I would find any excuse to lay out in my swimsuit, especially if it meant seeing my men shirtless. I let out a happy hum at that thought.

Maybe this little side vacation was exactly what we needed.

After maybe ten minutes, we began to approach a series of large estates up the hillside. I had been around some very large pieces of property, but even I had to admit that the Ross estate in Monaco was the epitome of ‘excess.’ I mean, heck, the garden even had a massiveRmade of flowers so that you could see it from above, and that wasn’t including the large fountains I could see.

It was placed on one of the highest spots on the coast looking over the ocean, and the warm Spanish tile that adorned its roof had me feeling excited to be here. In a place with so little open real estate, they not only had a massive open back yard, so large there was a helicopter pad, they also had a pool and tennis court. The closest neighbors weren’t close at all, and I had to assume that they had bought this piece of land a very long time ago, because it was no doubt worth an absurd amount if purchased today.

Then again, that probably wouldn’t have stopped them.

Because we were landing right on the property, we didn’t have to worry about the media, and apparently the security team had been sent ahead early this morning so once we were on the property, there would be absolutely nothing to worry about. I let out a pleased sound as we landed and I removed my headphones and hopped out, someone calling my name as I walked off the pad and towards the house.

I let out a sound of surprise as Sterling scooped me up from behind in a bridal hold, my eyes wide as he looked down at me and winked.

“What are you doing?” I asked, unable to stop the giggle that escaped me. There was an energy to Sterling today that was far different than normal; the way he looked down at me had my toes curling in excitement. I had noticed that he had seemed to be holding back from me since yesterday, and I knew it was because of my injuries, so I was glad that he didn’t seem to be acting as cautious anymore.

“Making sure you rest.” He shrugged, offering me a wink as I leaned further into him. This man was so damn perfect it was actually unfair.

“I feel a lot better than I thought I would,” I admitted softly. “The bruises just look bad.”

Sterling looked over my face and hummed in agreement, leaning forward and brushing his lips against my head. As he walked up the back steps of the property, I took in the massive archways and the mix between classic Spanish architecture and more transitional modern decor that filled the space. Everything was so clean and open… Honestly, I was starting to wonder if this wouldn’t end up being my favorite place to visit. It was clear we needed to travel way more than we had been, though, if I was ever going to actually have a favorite.

“Where are we going?” I asked Sterling as he carried me off into the house without the others, his lips tilted up in amusement.

“Food. We are eating because I’m starving, and then we are going to lay out somewhere. I haven’t gotten to touch or hold you nearly as much as I need to,” he admitted, nipping my ear as I let out a small sound that was pretty close to moaning.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to you kidnapping me.” I nuzzled into his neck.

“I may just do that. You’ve been running around so much, I may have to tie you down to the bed.”

Shivers went across my skin as he offered me a wicked, knowing smile. Before I could convince him to find a bedroom or some other place where we could be equally alone, we arrived in a gorgeous open kitchen where an older man was flipping through the well-worn pages of a book, his pristine white coat and gray mustache very much making him look the part of a chef.

“Mr. Gates, welcome back to the estate,” he said, looking up as we entered the kitchen.

The greeting was genuine, but I scowled up at Sterling.


Tags: M. Sinclair The Shadows of Wildberry Lane Erotic