Chapter 4

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Sleeping arrangements were easily dealt with; Phelps slept on the floor with the caveat that he had to be up before anyone might come to wake us.

I was a little concerned that he had much more depth than Fiona led me to believe. My dreams that night were of a Jacuzzi tub full of Hot Tamales, Phelps, and me. And let me tell you, the heat was not coming from the candy.

At one point I bolted up in bed, shocked by the ache between my legs and certain that he must have heard me moaning in my sleep. But when I peered over the edge, he lay soundly asleep on the floor, his expression angelic. I collapsed back into the bed and slept peacefully throughout the rest of the night.


Breakfast harkened the arrival of Gavin.

We were on the back deck, plates of eggs benedict and exotic fruit perched on our knees, when I heard the melodious tenor of his voice.

I dropped my plate.

“Good morning, Lydia,” he crooned, as I knelt to clean up my mess. Dubble Bubble Damn, why did his first sight have to be me on my hands and knees at his feet. Just where he wanted me, I’m sure.

“Gavin.” I nodded my head in the barest tilt of polite acknowledgment.

Then my prince stepped in.

“Hey, you’re the ex!” Phelps thrust out his hand, forcibly taking Gavin’s in return and pumping it enthusiastically. “Can’t thank you enough for being such an ass. Lyd’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

I might have been mortified, but for the look of utter aghast on Gavin’s pretty boy face.

“Um, you’re welcome?”

Gavin. At a loss for words? Priceless.

“If you hadn’t boinked your secretary, then where would we be?”

I clenched my jaw. Fiona must have told him more than just the particulars.

Gavin turned bright red—I had never thought to see Gavin Fairchild embarrassed—and could not come up with a single thing to say.

But I could.

“I don’t know about you, Sweet Tooth, but I would be married to a louse who dropped his pants for anything dumb enough to put out.” I stood, setting my plate on the bench behind me, and settled in at Phelps’ side. “I’m much happier where I am.”

Phelps grinned at me and I did the most startling thing; I kissed him. Right there in front of God, Gavin, and everybody.

Just a quick peck, but enough to send Gavin stalking back into the house with a vengeance.

“Bravo,” Phelps whispered as he gave me a return peck on the ear.

Someone started clapping. I turned to find Alberto applauding my brilliant set-down, and several recently divorced female guests joined him.

Alberto stepped forward and patted me on the shoulder. “That was a very pretty thing. For you.” He inclined his head to Ferrero, walking this way from the other end of the deck. “Just remember who your audience is.”

With that, he disappeared, leaving me alone with Phelps to face the approaching king.

While I was proud of myself for putting Gavin in his place, I knew that kind of outburst was unprofessional and could not be repeated.

“We can’t do that again,” I whispered hurriedly before Ferrero arrived. “I need to maintain my professional image.”

“Got it.”

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