Free Paradise: The Masters of The Order Novel Two by Jillian Verne Page A

she got in response to that little proclamation made her shiver even in the hot sun. She straightened her spine. “Don’t fight with me, Jacques, or I’ll search his room myself.”
    “Be careful, Isabella.”
    Okay, I'm Isabella again. No more friends. “Don’t look at me that way, Jacques. I’m not your sub.” Not yet .
    Jacques shot to his feet. “I’m getting some tanning oil. You’re going to get a sunburn.”
    “My skin is fine.”
    “Dominant. Remember? What are you going to say to him?”
    “Nothing. I’m going to listen.”
    “I don’t like this,” Jacques declared and went back inside. Only to return thirty seconds later with a bottle of tanning oil. He dropped it onto her chaise. “Put it on,” he barked and walked away.
    Well that was rude, kind of nice that he cares, but still rude.
    Her sex god was bossy with a capital “B.”
    So of course, she ignored him.
    *****
    Jerard strolled onto the deck. His limbs were heavy. Everything was heavy. It was a bad night. A very bad night. He felt dirty, ashamed of his own depravity and completely worthless. He couldn’t maintain the illusion. Not without help. His newfound fame as Darion LeClair’s protégé opened doors.
    Unexpected doors.
    Dangerous doors.
    Darion was a premier player in the art world. Everyone who was anyone knew of his illustrious reputation for having the Midas touch. Showing at one of his galleries virtually guaranteed instant fame and fortune, and Jerard’s experience with him was no exception.
    His new life with Jacques and entering the Order bolstered him initially, but the insecurity was still there, lurking just beneath the surface. His need for reinforcement only increased as the spotlight of success grew brighter. It highlighted the imperfect image bred into the psyche of a neglected boy from a poor neighborhood. The one who wasn’t good enough for anybody to love.
    Last night, he’d sworn he wouldn’t do it. He wanted to be there for his best friend, but he succumbed. Seeing Julianne and Nicolai’s love plastered everywhere in the gallery started the pity party. He should be happy for Julianne, but he couldn’t handle it. So he did what every best friend would do on such an important night. He went on a binge and ended up on someone’s floor, surrounded by naked people he didn’t know. He scurried away at dawn to seek the comfort of Jacques, only to disappoint the person he respected most in this world, like he always seemed to do.
    Well done, asshole , he cursed himself as he stepped next to Isabella.
    “This is awkward,” she said as she sat up and fastened her bikini top.
    “What?”
    “Me.”
    Actually, he thought she was pretty, not awkward at all.
    “Being here.”
    “Huh?”
    “With Jacques.”
    He was confused.
    “ ¡Maldita sea! How often does Jacques pick up random women and bring them home?”
    Duh . The pretty lady on the chaise was getting angry. Very angry. So he piped up, “He never brings them home.”
    Wrong answer . She almost flew into a rage so he added, “Don’t feel awkward, Isabella. We’re all adults.”
    She didn’t seem appeased and promptly fell into a beautiful pout.
    “I’m teasing you, Isabella. You have no reason to be insecure. I mean look at you lying there hotter than the sun.”
    “ Lo siento ,” she said flatly, obviously still a little peeved.
    “Sorry about what? Being so gorgeous that Jacques couldn’t resist you. How did our world famous business tycoon lure you here anyway? Money, charm, his dashing good looks?” He smiled imploringly at her.
    “I was drunk. Jacques kidnapped me.” She crossed her arms under her lovely breasts with a little huff. “I woke up on his boat.”
    Jerard threw his head back and laughed out loud. “I love it. I’m sooo glad you told me that. I’m never going to let Jacques live this one down.”
    He was still laughing when Isabella said, “Tell me about Jacques, Jerard.”
    “You spent the night with him. Why don’t