"Trust me, we make an effort." It's Gideon who answers, and his ugly sneer catches me off-guard.

When he stalks off, I look at Easton. "What's up his ass?"

"No clue."

For once, Easton is as clueless as I am, but Reed must know something we both don't, because he scowls and says, "Lay off Gid."

Then he walks out, too. He hadn't looked at me, not even once, and the pain that squeezes my heart is a thousand times worse than any hangover.

Lunch with Valerie is fun, but I beg off early because my head still feels like it's being stabbed with rusty knives. She laughs and tells me that the bigger the hangover, the better the party must have been, and I let her believe the same thing Callum believes-that I drank a little too much and now I'm being punished for it.

I don't know why I don't tell her about Daniel. Val is my friend, and she'd be the first person in line to beat the bejeezus out of Daniel for what he did to me. But something holds me back from telling her. Maybe it's shame.

I shouldn't feel ashamed. I shouldn't. I didn't do anything wrong, and if I'd had even the slightest suspicion that Daniel was such a psycho, I never would have gone into the pool house with him. Ever.

But each time I think about last night, I picture myself ripping my clothes off and whispering Reed's name while Daniel's slimy hands ran all over my body. I picture that and I'm flooded with shame.

And I can't even distract myself by thinking about what happened afterward-the good part, when I was whispering Reed's name for other reasons. I can't think about it because it makes me sad. Reed wanted me last night, and he gave me as much of himself as he'd been willing to give, but now he's taken it away again.

Valerie drops me off at the mansion and speeds off in her housekeeper's car. She told me at lunch that her boyfriend is coming home next weekend, and I'm looking forward to meeting the guy. The amount of time she spends talking about Tam, I feel like I already known him.

It's another beautiful afternoon, so I decide to change into my bathing suit and lie by the pool for a while. Hopefully the sunshine will make me feel human again. I grab a book and get settled on a lounger, but I only have about twenty minutes of solitude before Gideon strides out in his Speedo.

Of all the Royal brothers, Gideon is probably the one with the least amount of body fat. He has a swimmer's frame, and Easton told me he got a full ride to college on a swim scholarship. The twins insist that he'll be winning gold at the next summer Olympics, but it's a good thing there are no Olympic officials around today, because they'd reject him in a heartbeat. His strokes are uneven, and his pace is alarmingly slow.

But maybe I'm worried for nothing. I mean, I've only seen him swim one other time. Maybe he's just taking it easy today.

"Ella," he calls as he heaves himself out of the pool nearly an hour later.

"Yeah?"

He walks toward me, dripping water all over the deck. "There's a party on the beach tonight. At the Worthington estate." He rubs his towel over his chest. "I want you to stay home."

I arch a brow. "You're in charge of my social calendar now?"

"Tonight I am." His tone brooks no argument. "I mean it. Stay away from the party."

After last night, I have no interest in going to another party ever again, but I still don't appreciate being told what to do. "Maybe."

"No maybe about it. Stay home."

He disappears into the house, and not even five minutes later, Easton walks out and looms over my chair. "Brent Worthington is having a-"

"A party," I finish. "Yeah, I know all about it."

He rubs a hand over the stubble on his jaw. "You're not going."

"You've been talking to Gideon, I see."

His expression reveals that he has, but then he tries a different approach, flashing me that boyish grin of his. "Look, there's no reason for you to go out, little sis. Take the night off, relax, watch some soap operas-"

"Soap operas? Who do you think I am, a fifty-year-old housewife?"

He snickers. "Fine, then watch some porn. But you're not coming with us tonight."

"Us?" I echo. "Is Reed going?"

Easton shrugs, and the way he avoids my gaze raises my hackles. What the hell do they have planned for tonight? Panic tugs at my belly. Is Daniel going to be there? Is that why they want to keep me away?

I don't get a chance to ask the question, because Easton is already dashing off. Sighing, I pick up my book and try to concentrate on the chapter I'm reading, but it's no use. I'm worried again.

"Hey."

I look up and find Reed approaching. For the first time today, he actually meets my eyes.

He lowers his broad body into the chair next to mine. "How you feeling?"

I tuck my book at my side. "Better. My head isn't pounding anymore, but my body still feels kinda weak."

He nods. "You should eat something."

"I did."

"Then eat more."

"Trust me, I'm stuffed." A grin springs to my lips. "Valerie shoved an insane amount of shrimp and crab legs down my throat at lunch."

His lips twitch.

Smile, I beg silently at him. Smile at me. Touch me. Kiss me. Anything.

The smile doesn't surface. "Listen, about last night..." He clears his throat. "I need to know something."

My forehead creases. "Okay."

"Did you...was it..." He lets out a breath. "Do you feel like I took advantage of you?"

"What? Of course not."

But the intensity in his eyes doesn't waver. "You need to be straight with me. If you feel like I took advantage, or did anything you didn't want me to do...you have to tell me."

I sit up and lean toward him, cupping his face with both hands. "You didn't do anything that I didn't want you to do."

His relief is obvious. When I sweep my thumbs over his jaw, his breath hitches. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" I whisper.

"You know what." Groaning, he moves my hands off his face and rises unsteadily to his feet. "It can't happen again. I won't let it."

Frustration jams inside me. "Why not?"

"Because it's not right. I'm not...I don't want you, okay?" A sneer forms. "I was being nice to you last night because you were hopped up on E and you needed some relief. I was just doing you a solid, but that's all it was. I don't want you."

He marches away before I can answer. Or rather, before I can call him a big fat liar. He doesn't want me? Bullshit. If he didn't want me, then he wouldn't have kissed me like he was a starving man and I was his only source of nourishment. If he didn't want me, he wouldn't have worshipped my body like it was the greatest gift he'd ever received, or held me in his arms until I fell asleep.

He's lying to me, and now my concern levels are at an all-time high. Not just concern, but determination, because clearly Reed Royal has secrets I can't even begin to decode.

But I will. I'm going to find out everything. Why he keeps everyone at a distance, why he feels unworthy, why he's pretending there isn't something between us when we both know there is. I'm going to learn all his secrets, dammit.

Which means...I guess I'm going to another party tonight.

26.

I need reinforcements or, at the very least, intel. From what Gideon said, the Worthingtons live down the shore and close enough that you must be able to hear some noise at the Royal property. They also must have kids close in age to the Royal brothers. But that's about it.

Good thing I know someone who's gossip central.

Valerie answers on the first ring. "You need more seafood? I told you that the best cure for a hangover is food."

The thought of even one more piece of shellfish in my stomach makes me want to barf. "No thanks. I was wondering if you were done Skyping with Tam and wanted to come over and spy on the Royals with me."

Valerie sucks in a breath. "I'll be right over."

"Hey," I interject before she hangs up. "Do you have a car?"

"No. And you can't ask one of the brothers to pick me up, can you?" she says glumly.

"Don't worry. Durand will pick you up. Hell, once I tell Callum I want to have a friend over, he'll volunteer."

"Oh, Callum. Nice. He's hot for an old guy."

"Gross, Valerie. He's like over forty."

"So? He's what they call a silver fox. You know who's into those?"

"I have no idea. One of the Pastels?"

"Oh hell no. Those girls wouldn't know what to do with an adult male, let alone one with a few decades under his belt. Jordan's older sister! She's twenty-two and constantly bringing home old guys. The last one actually had gray hair and I swear he was older than Uncle Brian. I can't decide whether she's super kinky and these are the only guys who know what they're doing, or if she has daddy issues."

"My insult to Jordan at her party might have hit a little too close to home then?"

"Probably didn't help," Valerie says cheerfully.

"I'm hanging up now because I'm seriously thinking of vomiting up my lunch over this discussion." I lay the phone down and try to scrub any thoughts of Callum doing kinky things from my brain.

Fortunately, Durand is available and Valerie is brought to the Royal estate in quick order.

"Wow, this place is so..." She gropes for the right word as she gapes at my bedroom.

I supply several. "Juvenile? Girlie? An homage to Valentine's Day gone wrong?"

She falls backward on the pink ruffled bedspread. "Interesting."

"That's one word for it." I settle into the white fur-covered vanity chair and watch Valerie bat at the sheer curtains that hang around the four-poster bed. "Want something to drink? I actually have a mini fridge in here." I open the glass door of the beverage cooler situated under the counter of the vanity.

"Sure. I'll have diet whatever. Besides the pink, this is a great room. Television, posh bed." She touches the bedspread. "Is this silk?"

I have my hand in the fridge when she drops that bomb. "I'm sleeping on a silk blanket?"

"Technically you sleep under it. I mean, you don't have to but you're supposed to sleep on the sheets and under the coverlet." Valerie looks all concerned as if my upbringing was so bizarre I might not know about sheets. Sadly, she's not that far from the truth.

"I know that, smart ass." I pull out a Diet Coke and shove it in her hand. I pop one open for myself. "It's just weird. I went from sleeping bag to silk blankets or-excuse me-coverlets," I correct myself before Valerie can. But enough about bed stuff. I need intel. "Tell me everything you know about the Worthingtons," I order.

"The telecom Worthingtons or the real estate Worthingtons?" she asks, her mouth still around the opening of the pop can.

"I have no clue. They live close to here and are having a beach party tonight."

"Oh, then the telecom Worthingtons. They live about five houses down." She holds up her can. "Do you have a coaster?"

I throw her a notebook, which she uses to set her can on.

"Brent Worthington is a senior. He's super uptight, although more about name recognition than money. His girlfriend Lindsey's parents had to declare bankruptcy a couple of years ago and pulled Lindsey from Astor Park because they couldn't afford the tuition, but Brent never broke up with her because Lindsey is a DAR."

"What do the Dars do?" I ask.

Valerie laughs and shakes her head. "No, that's not a last name. Daughters of the American Revolution. She can trace her family tree back to one of the original three boats that came over from England."

"That's a thing?" I gape.

"Yup. So what's going on?"