CHAPTER FOUR

I HOLD THE TISSUE FLAT, press the soft white parchment to my lips then roll them together as I look at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is full and curled just on the ends. My makeup is smoky sexy, and my lips are now a glossy gold.

I turn to look at my behind, and I feel my nerves flutter in my stomach.

I'm wearing a fitted, strapless cream dress, with high heeled gold stilettos complimenting it, plus a small gold clutch giving me something to cling on to. I look good. I know I look good. Sexy and fun was my aim, and I think I nailed the brief.

Tonight’s the night.

For twelve months, Emerson and I have planned our trip to London, convincing ourselves that we were going to be new people. People who have fun and live by the seat of their pants. Not that we didn't do that back home, but we were definitely in a rut. I didn't want to go out in fear that I would run into my ex and one of his bimbos. Emerson didn't want to go out in case we saw her ex with someone else. Our social lives were completely dependant on other people, and I hate that we let that happen.

I hate that I unconsciously let my stupid ex determine what I did. Maybe I wasn't ready to move on and that was just my excuse to keep my heart safe. I've been asked on dates—many times, actually—but nobody ever caught my interest, and I know it would have been a letdown and I'd have come home feeling flat. Declining dates was a better option than suffering disappointment.

So, Emerson and I would watch movies and eat takeout at each other’s houses to save our money for our trip. We both moved home with our parents a year ago when our relationships fell apart, and that, in itself, was a challenge.

Neither of us had lived at home since we were twenty, but we didn’t want to commit to a new lease or anything until we came home from this trip. It was like our lives were on hold until we lived through this experience. And

this is it… now we’re here.

But the bravery I was sure I would have has suddenly disappeared.

The Canadian boys we met on the plane were nice. One of them was gorgeous and we had an instant spark.

Is tonight the night, though? He leaves for Greece tomorrow. This is our one and only night together, and then I’ll probably never see him again. Not that I’m complaining. He isn’t the kind of man I can see myself ending up with long term, but one night of passion might not be such a bad thing. Will I really have sex with a stranger? I haven’t had sex in twelve months, and God, has that particular drought been hard. Harder than hard. I never realized how much I needed sex until I couldn’t have it.

I feel a wave of nausea run through my stomach. I know it’s just nerves, but staying home and spying on Mr. Masters while eating ice cream seems so much more appealing, right now.

Ah, Mr. Masters—the man who makes my stomach flutter, whose voice makes me imagine things that I shouldn’t be imagining.

I need to call an cab. I’ll have to ask him who I call because I have no idea. With one quick look in the mirror, I make my way up into the main house.

Mr. Masters has been snappy with me all day, and I’m not really sure why. We seemed to get along well after our nanny scotch the other night but today, after he heard me on the phone talking about tonight, we are back to square one.

Sam is sprawled on the living room floor, and Mr. Masters is sitting in his wingback chair, reading his book. Willow is sitting at the kitchen table doing an assignment.

“Oh my God,” Sammy yells. “You look so beautiful.”

I hold my clutch in my hands with white-knuckle force, and I swallow the lump in my throat. Mr. Masters' eyes rise over the top of the book, and he gives me the once over.

“Do you know what cab company I call, please?” I ask.

He smiles warmly. “You look lovely, Miss Brielle.”

A stupid smile crosses my face as I squeeze my handbag so tight I might break it. “Really?”

“Really.” His eyes hold mine.

I glance over to Willow who is watching me. “Do you like my dress, Will?” I ask.

She shrugs and goes back to her assignment.

Sammy jumps up from his place on the floor and circles me. “You look like a movie star.” He gasps. “Like a gold and glittery Barbie.”

Mr. Masters chuckles, and I feel the heat of it warm my blood.

“You have a beautiful laugh,” I say without thinking.

A scowl creases his forehead, and he stops laughing immediately. “I’ll have my driver pick you up.”

I frown, too. “I don’t want to bother you.” I twist my hands in front of me. “I’ll just catch a cab, honestly.”

“Don’t be daft.” He picks up his phone.

“But how much does your driver charge?” I ask. “I’m on a budget.”

His eyes rise to meet mine, he shakes his head, and then holds a finger up. “Hello. This is Julian Masters. Can you come and pick a guest up from my estate, please?”

I bite my bottom lip as I listen. How much does a damn private driver cost? Shit.

He nods. “I see, that’s fine, although I will need you to pick her up later tonight, too.”

Oh no. I shake my head. “No, I’m staying at Emerson’s,” I mouth.

He frowns and looks down at the floor to avoid my gaze.

“She will call you when she is ready to come home.” He listens for a moment, and then smiles. “Yes, please, and I would like Frank to pick her up—”

“Mr. Masters,” I interrupt. “I’m not coming home tonight.”

He puts his hand over the phone. “Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not,” I whisper.

“Yes. You. Are.” He looks away and continues listening. “Yes, and charge her fair to my account, please.”

I huff and put my hands on my hips. Of all the nerve. It’s the weekend.

A trace of amusement crosses his face as he speaks. “Thank you. She’ll see you then.”

What the hell?

I glance up to Willow who is smirking to herself. “This isn’t funny, Will,” I call to her, and she smiles down at her paper.

Finally, Julian’s eyes rise to mine.

“Mr. Masters. I’m not coming home tonight. I’m staying at Emerson’s.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Brielle, I need you here in the morning as I’m playing golf. Some other time perhaps?”

My face falls. “But… I had plans tonight.”

His eyes hold mine and he raises a sarcastic brow. “Change them.”

He gets up and grabs his keys. “Come on.”

“Come on, where?” I sigh. Damn it. Emerson’s going to be pissed because she really wanted me to stay over at her new house. She’s called me five times today already.

“I’ll drive you into town… unless you’d prefer to walk?”

I smile and put my thumb out playfully. “I could always hitch a ride.”

“Looking like that, you wouldn’t last long.”

“Looking like what?”

He looks me up and down and frowns. “Like a gold and glittery Barbie.”

I smile. Oh, he’s being cute now. “It is a strain being this beautiful, you know.” I bat my eyelashes playfully and put my hands on my hips, wiggling my behind.

“Oh God,” I hear Willow moan, and Sammy giggles in the background.