“It’s the thought that counts, not the carats.”
“The only people who say that are people who can’t afford carats.” But even the stupidest guy wouldn’t gift someone like Sloane a piece of kid’s jewelry. Unless… “Who did you really go see?” I asked softly.
Sloane’s face darkened.
I didn’t get a reply, nor had I expected one, but I could guess. There was only one topic that made her shut down: her family. Everyone knew about the Kensingtons’ estrangement. They were New York society staples, and barrels of ink had been spilled over the rift between investment tycoon George Kensington III and his eldest daughter. The cause of said rift had been a topic of speculation for years.
Had she visited her family after the gala? If so, who’d gifted her that bracelet and why? Obviously, it had to be someone she cared about or she wouldn’t wear it, but from what I understood, her separation from her family had been ugly. She hadn’t talked to another Kensington in years.
Sloane’s eyes stayed on mine, her emotions inscrutable beneath their wintry blue depths. It was as if she were physically restraining herself from looking away lest I mistook the move for weakness.
Little did she know, there was nothing she could do that I’d mistake for weakness. She was one of the strongest people I knew, and only a fool would think otherwise.
The minutes ticked by. The longer the silence stretched, the more I wanted to dig beneath her stoic façade until I reached the real her—the one with flaws and insecurities like everyone else, not the perfect CEO she projected to the world.
Come on, Luna. Give me something.
A shadow crossed her face, and just when I thought she’d provide some sort of answer, the heater shut off, indicating our time in the sauna was up.
I blinked, ending our unwitting stare down.
Sloane’s expression hardened again before she stood and walked to the exit.
“Okay, good talk,” I said, following her. My voice sounded abnormally loud after the silence. “I learned a lot about you. Thanks.”
“You’re the one who said this trip is supposed to be relaxing.” She twisted the door handle. “Being interrogated isn’t relaxing.”
“Interrogated is a strong word,” I muttered. But fair enough. Honestly, I didn’t know why I cared so much about a stupid bracelet. So what if it had to do with her family? My own family dynamics were shitty enough without me worrying about someone else’s.
“You can open the door anytime now,” I said when Sloane didn’t move. “I don’t want to miss a second of my massage.”
She turned, and my stomach dropped at her tight expression. “I can’t,” she said. “The door is jammed. We’re stuck.”
CHAPTER 6
Sloane
On my list of worst ways to die, overheating half naked in a sauna with Xavier Castillo ranked somewhere between medieval torture and getting eaten alive by piranhas, which was why it was not going to happen.
I tried the handle again. Still jammed. Dammit.
“If we had our phones, we could call the front desk, but we don’t,” I muttered. That was why I brought my phone everywhere. I didn’t care about screen addiction; at least it could save my life if and when the occasion arose.
“Sloane.”
“There’s nothing heavy enough to break the door unless I push you through it.” Tempting.
He sighed. “Sloane, there’s—”
“We could hope someone finds us when the next appointment shows up, but who knows when that’ll be? The spa is fully booked, but that doesn’t mean—”
“Sloane!” Xavier grabbed my shoulders and turned me around. “There’s an emergency button for these situations.”
I followed his gaze to the wall. Sure enough, the button was right there, mounted on a piece of wood. How the hell had I missed that?
Embarrassment scorched my cheeks.
I blamed the sauna. That much heat in a confined space couldn’t be healthy.
I managed to retain a shred of dignity as I pressed the button, mostly by ignoring Xavier’s shit-eating grin.
The staff came quickly after that, averting our potential demise. However, even though we weren’t in danger anymore, the possibility of dying next to Xavier—no matter how fleeting—did not bode well for the rest of the trip.
“I think it’s a great start to the week,” he said as we walked to our couples massage. The spa concierge had been so apologetic about the sauna lock-in that she’d added an extra half hour to our treatment. “We survived death. It can only go uphill from here.”
I pushed him into a nearby bush.
It was pure pettiness on my part, but it felt good. If it weren’t for him, I would be sitting happily in my office in New York, putting out fires instead of “relaxing.”
To my disgruntlement, Xavier didn’t fall; he merely stumbled into the hedge, and his laugh followed us into our massage room, where I made a point not to look at him as we disrobed. I’d already seen him half naked in the sauna, but it was hard to ignore the glimpses of tanned skin and sculpted muscle out of the corner of my eye.
The fact he was built like a Greek god when he did nothing except lounge around and party proved there was no justice in the universe.
We settled on our respective tables in silence. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him two feet away. His presence filled the room, unearthing memories from our short-lived but unnerving sauna adventure.
There’d been a moment, just one, when I looked at Xavier and my heart skipped a beat.
