Callum enters the kitchen, dressed in a white polo shirt and khakis. His dark hair is gelled away from his face, and, for once, he doesn't look like he's hit the liquor cabinet yet.

"Good, you boys are up," he tells the twins. "Where are the others? I told them to be downstairs at seven-fifteen." He turns to me. "You look lovely, but you might want to change into more proper sailing attire."

I stare at him blankly. "Sailing?"

"Didn't I tell you last night? We're all going sailing this morning."

What? No, he hadn't told me, and if I'd known this, I would have snuck right out of the house with Sawyer's girlfriend and stowed myself in the trunk of her car.

"You're going to love the Maria," Callum tells me, sounding excited. "There's not much of a breeze out so I don't think we'll use the sails, but it'll still be a fun time."

Me and the Royals on a boat? In open water? I don't think Callum understands what the word fun means.

Easton staggers into the kitchen then, decked out in wrinkled cargo shorts and a wife-beater, with a baseball cap hanging low on his forehead. He's no doubt hung-over from last night, and I suddenly have visions of the boat bouncing on the waves while Easton pukes over the side all morning.

"Reed!" Callum yells in the direction of the doorway. "Get a move on! Ella, get changed. And wear the deck shoes Brooke bought you-she got you deck shoes, right?"

I have no idea because "deck shoes" aren't a part of my vocabulary. I make a stab at getting out of this nightmare-scape he's just painted for me. "Callum, I have a lot of homework-"

"Bring it with you." He waves a hand and shouts "Reed!" again.

Dammit. I guess I'm going sailing.

The Maria is everything you'd expect from a gazillionaire's boat. Boat. Ha. It's a yacht, of course, and I feel like I'm starring in a rap video as I stand at the railing and sip on the flute of Cristal that Brooke slipped into my hand when Callum wasn't looking. She winked as she did it, whispering that I should say it's ginger ale if Callum asks, which he never does.

Callum was right-it's gorgeous out on the water, and the Atlantic stretches out all around us, calm and beautiful.

I drove to the marina with Callum and Brooke, while the boys took Reed's SUV. Which was a relief, because the thought of sitting in Reed's car after seeing it rocking in the parking lot last night made me sick to my stomach.

I wonder who he was with. His sweet, pure Abby, I bet. I'm not sure it satisfied him, though. I've heard sex is supposed to leave you all loose and relaxed, but Reed's entire body has been coiled with tension since we boarded the yacht.

He stands on the other side of the railing, as far as humanly possible from me and Callum without falling overboard. On the upper deck-which houses a dining area and a hot tub-Brooke is sunbathing in the nude, her golden hair gleaming in the sunshine. The weather's not warm enough for bathing suits, let alone birthday suits, but she doesn't seem to mind.

"So what do you think?" Callum gestures to the water. "Peaceful, huh?"

Not really. There's no such thing as peace when Reed Royal is staring at you. No, glaring at you, and he's been doing it for the past hour.

Easton is still downstairs doing God knows what, and the twins are fast asleep in a pair of nearby loungers, so Callum's the only company I've got, and Reed clearly isn't happy about it.

"Darling!" Brooke calls from the sundeck. "Come rub lotion on my back!"

Callum avoids my gaze, probably because he doesn't want me to see his sex eyes. "You okay down here alone for a bit?" he asks.

"It's fine. Go ahead."

I'm relieved to be left alone, but the relief doesn't last. The tension rises all over again when Reed moves toward me with predatory strides. He rests his forearms on the railing and keeps his gaze straight ahead.

"Ella."

I can't tell if it's a greeting or a question. I roll my eyes. "Reed."

He doesn't continue. Just keeps staring at the water.

I sneak a peek at him, and my heart does that irritating flip it always does when Reed is around. He's masculinity personified. Tall and broad, his gorgeous features chiseled to perfection. My mouth grows dry as I admire his arms, sleek with muscle, rippling with power.

He's a good foot taller than me, so when he finally turns to look at me, I have to tilt my head to meet his gaze.

Those blue eyes flick over me, resting briefly on my tiny denim shorts and tight halter top that ties at the neck. They focus on my navy-blue-and-white deck shoes, and the corner of his mouth quirks slightly.

I wonder if he's about to make fun of my shoes, but his almost-smile fades when a husky moan echoes from above us.

"Yes." Brooke's throaty voice makes Reed and me cringe.

A male growl follows the request. Callum apparently has no problem getting busy when his sons are close by. I find that disgusting, yet at the same time, I can't bring myself to hate him, not after his confession that he's still grieving for his wife. Loss makes us do crazy things.

Reed bites out a curse. "Let's go."

His steel grip captures my arm, making it impossible to do anything but follow him toward the stairs that lead below deck.

"Where are we going?"

He doesn't answer. He pushes open the door and marches into the luxurious main room, which is furnished with leather couches and glass tables. Reed bulldozes past the full kitchen and dining area toward the cabins in the back.

He knocks on an oak door. "East. Wake the fuck up."

There's a loud groan. "Go away. My head is pounding."

Reed walks into the cabin without knocking. I peek behind his broad shoulders and see Easton sprawled on a massive bed, holding a pillow over his head.

"Get up," Reed orders.

"Why?"

"Need you to keep Dad occupied." Reed laughs sardonically. "Well, he's occupied enough at the moment, but I want you up there in case that changes."

Easton pushes the pillow off his face and sits up with a groan. "You know I've always got your back, but listening to that woman is my idea of a nightmare. Those squeaky noises she makes when Dad-" He stops midsentence when he notices me behind Reed.

I can't see Reed's face, but whatever his eyes are conveying causes Easton to heave himself out of bed. "Gotcha."

"Keep the twins away, too," Reed says.

His brother disappears without another word. Rather than stay in Easton's cabin, Reed walks next door and gestures for me to follow him inside.

I stay put, crossing my arms. "What do you want?"

"To talk."

"Then talk here."

"Get in here, Ella."

"No."

"Yes."

I drop my arms and walk into the cabin. Something about this guy...he issues a command and I obey. I fight it at first, sure. I always fight, but he always wins.

Reed closes the door behind me and runs a hand through his windblown hair. "I've been thinking about what we talked about before."

"We didn't talk before. You talked." And my pulse speeds up because now I'm remembering what he'd said.

If I have to fuck you so you don't ruin my family, I'll do it.

"I want you to stay away from my brother."

"Aw, are you jealous?" As Callum would say, I'm poking the tiger, but I don't really care. I'm tired of this guy telling me what to do.

"I get it, you're used to a certain lifestyle," Reed says, ignoring my taunt. "I bet guys were lining up to drill you at your old school."

My heart stops when he grabs the bottom of his shirt.

"You have needs." He shrugs. "Can't fault you for that, and yeah, I haven't made it easy for you to make friends at Astor Park. Not a lot of guys have the balls to go against me and ask you out. They think you're hot, though. They all do."

Where on earth is he going with this? And why-oh my God, why is he taking off his shirt?

I gape at his bare chest. He has a six-pack that makes me drool, and his oblique muscles are tight and delicious. Heat spreads through my body. I clench my thighs together to try to stop the throbbing between them, but it just makes it worse.

He grins at me. Oh yeah, he's fully aware of the effect he has on me.

"My brother's a good lay." His eyes gleam. "But he's not as good as me."

Reed undoes the button of his cargo shorts and tugs on the zipper. I can't breathe. I'm frozen in place as he yanks the shorts off and kicks them away.

My legs start to shake. Everywhere I look I see smooth golden skin and tight muscle.

"Here's the deal," he says. "My brother and father are off-limits to you. If you have an itch that needs scratching, you come to me. I'll take care of it."

He rests his large palm between his pecs, then drags it lower.

All the oxygen is trapped in my lungs. I can't do anything but follow the trajectory of his hand. It slides over his abs and stomach, stops just above his groin, then shifts lower to delve past the elastic of his boxer briefs.

Reed's fingers close around his very obvious hard-on and someone moans. I think it's me. It must be me, because he smiles.

"You want this?" He pumps himself slowly. "You can have it. Lick it, suck it, fuck it, anything you want, baby. As long it's just with me."

My heart beats even faster.

Reed tips his head. "Do we have a deal?"

It's the calculated note in his voice that snaps me out of my trance. Horror and indignation rush to the surface, and I stumble backward, bumping my shins on the bed.

"Screw you," I choke out.

He looks unimpressed with my outburst.

I lick my lips. My mouth is dryer than the Sahara and yet I've never felt more alive. All my stripping, all my dodging of Mom's handsy boyfriends, hasn't prepared me for this. Maybe there were guys lined up to sleep with me, but I was focused on working, caring for my mom, and then just surviving. I can't even remember the face of a single guy I went to school with last year.

The image of Reed standing here-buff, golden, and naked with his dick in his hand-will be burned into my memory forever.

He has everything a girl could want: the hard body, the handsome face that will still look good years from now, the money, and that extra something. Charisma, I guess. The ability to slay you with a single look.

The apple is dangling in front of me, juicy red and delicious, but, like the fairy tale, Reed Royal is the villain disguised as a pretty prince. Taking a bite out of him would be a huge mistake.

And I might be attracted to him, but I refuse to let my first time to be with someone who despises me. Someone who's trying to protect his perfectly capable brother from my innocent destruction.

But I don't want to leave without a taste either, because I'm not that strong...or stupid.

He may hate me, but he wants me. His grip on his dick doesn't ease up. If anything, his muscles bunch harder as if he's anticipating my touch.

This is what Valerie was talking about the other night when we were dancing. I didn't respond to the crowd, but Reed's hot eyes tracking my every move made me feel real. I know that if I was in Reed's head right now all I'd see would be me.

I saunter to the chair in the corner where a folded robe is wrapped in its sash. I pull the sash off and then run the strip of terry cloth through my fingers.

"Anything I want?" I ask him.

His eyes close momentarily and then snap open with so much need my knees nearly buckle.

"Yes. Anything." His response sounds as if it's wrenched out of him. "But just me."

"Why are you so desperate?" I taunt. "You had sex with someone just last night."

He makes a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "I didn't have jack last night. You're the one who made out with East."

"And you weren't rocking the Range Rover so hard the tires were coming off?" I say sarcastically.

"That was Wade." My confusion must show because he clarifies. "The quarterback of Astor Park, friend of mine. The bathroom was full. He couldn't wait."

Something like relief floods me. Maybe this is the only way his pride lets us be together. Maybe I could have him. Maybe this is my good thing. My reward. I decide to test it.