Sweet Distraction ✔︎

[5] 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆

Isabelle had not done that. She was not a walking cliché - the hired help who'd gotten hot and heavy with the wealthy heir of the manor.

Except that she had. And she was. But now in the clear light of day when all cute talk about whipped cream and liking sex had faded into a memory. Isabelle's anger toward herself mounted. It annoyed her to no end that Evan King had gotten under her skin to the point that she'd not only succumbed to his charm, she'd bid for him at a bachelor auction, then let him kiss her in the middle of a damn kitchen when she should have been working.

Hormones or whatever, her body remembered everything - the way Evan had cupped her nape and tilted her head to just the right angle, the firm, insistent pressure of his mouth, the exquisite way he'd deepened the kiss, gliding his tongue over her lower lip as his fingers caressed the ridge of the collarbone.

She'd wanted him to keep going. Worse, she'd wanted to let him take the lead, and she'd wanted to simply follow wherever he planned to go. For a woman who's been traveling independently for over a decade, it was a decidedly unnerving realization.

With a groan, she rolled out of bed and stumbled to the shower. For two days now, she battled the knowledge that she'd both encouraged Evan's attentions and wanted more of them. She couldn't even remember if she'd ever felt that way about a man before. She wasn't the girl who got all weak-kneed and sappy over men. She was the girl who could take them or leave them, who carved her own path, who set the terms of short affairs.

She turned her face to the hot water, trying to let the spray ease the tension gripping her neck. Not only did she dislike the way Evan had gotten to her, he was a man who thought it was no big deal to drop fifty thousand dollars in ledd than half an hour. Yes, it was for charity, but it was still fifty thousand dollars. She hadn't even had five thousand dollars at any point in time.

Restlessness seethe through her. She got out of the shower and dressed in a loose cotton pants and a T-shirt. She poured a cup of coffee and sat down to check her email. A message from Jupiter's Friend Freya flashed in the screen - a photograph of her and Evan kissing, along with the words 𝖮𝖬𝖦!! 𝖳𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗈𝗐!!

Isabelle's heart plummeted. If Freya knew, then Jupiter knew. She responded with : 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲.

A quick search led to the bachelor auction site, which included dozen of professional photos from the evening, and a local New report about the amount of money raised for the Rebecca King Foundation.

She picked up her phone, not bothering to calculate the time difference, and called Jupiter.

"My my," her sister answered. "That's quite a photo."

"It was a total mistake," Isabelle said quickly. "I didn't meant to bid on him. It's a long story, but he's paying for the bid and taking someone else on the dates."

"Why aren't you going?"

"The last thing I want or need is to spend a weekend in Napa and a day on a yacht," Isabelle replied. "Besides, it's a romantic thing, and I'm not romantic about Evan."

"That kiss sure looked romantic."

Isabelle was certain she was mistaken. No way was that hope in her sister's voice.

Or was it? Jupiter had always wanted Isabelle to stay in Rainsville, especially during the past three years as their mother battled leukemia. Though Isabelle had returned from her travels, she'd never stayed longer than a couple of weeks - a pathetic fact that had only underscored her cowardice.