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PART I
WANTING
Chapter 1
The June sunset flamed over tall oak trees, arching shadows across my aunt and uncle’s rolling backyard. But “yard” didn’t begin to describe the stretches of land wrapping around the Randolph estate: the tennis courts, the pool, the terraced gardens, the golf range, the deep-rooted trees thickening into dark woods, and the broad patio lit with swaying glass lanterns.
Staff overran the patio: caterers, servers, bartenders and musicians setting up for tonight’s party. My Aunt Rose hustled from end to end, heels clicking on the paving stones, giving orders.
Fanning my flushed face and trying to look like I belonged here, I eyed Rose’s shimmering cascade of champagne-colored hair, her lean calves flashing across the patio, her glossy lips and long lashes.
As a kid, I’d thought Aunt Rose was the most beautiful woman in the world. On family visits, I’d hovered near her, ooh-ing and ah-ing over her gold and diamond jewelry. I’d made the mistake of telling this to my mom, who’d made sure I knew — in more detail than a seven-year-old needed — that every bit of her sister was fake. But fifteen years later, I still thought she was gorgeous. I was still a little in awe.
“Andrea.” My aunt stopped in front of me, mid-bustle. I shifted, balancing on my wedge heels. Without them, I was 5’2” on a good day. “Where have you been? Come say hello. He’s here.”
“He?” I repeated.
“Will, of course. He’s home early. Such a wonderful surprise, and perfect timing with the party.” Aunt Rose swept her hand at the patio. My aunt didn’t look like she was capable of being surprised, but she allowed a slight smile to curve her perfectly glossed mouth. “Now come greet your cousin. He’ll be so happy to see you.”
No, I don’t think he will.
My heart thudded against my chest. “I thought Will wasn’t coming home until next week.” My throat twisted around his name, and I hoped my reddened cheeks didn’t show under the ropes of lanterns. “Isn’t he traveling? He’s supposed to be in Spain.”
A curl of jealousy rolled inside me, knowing my relatives’ wealth enabled my cousin to go anywhere he wanted.
“His plans changed,” Aunt Rose said airily. “And of course Richard will be delighted to have him starting in the office on Monday.”
A year younger than me, Will was going into his senior year of college: Ivy-wrapped, the son of my uncle’s legacy — the Randolph media empire. This summer, he’d be working alongside Uncle Richard.
“Look, there he is now.” Aunt Rose pointed.
The crowd of staff miraculously parted, creating a path as the sun slipped below the horizon.
Longingly, I eyed the bartenders setting up at the far corner of the patio. I needed wine, desperately.
This was foolish. My pounding heart, the heat that spread through me. Four years had passed since I last saw my cousin. We weren’t teenagers anymore. And what happened that night between us –- it was best left forgotten. Surely Will didn’t remember any of it.
There had to be so many girls in his life. Beautiful girls, wealthy girls, probably heartless girls, like him. Girls who weren’t off-limits.
This was what I’d told myself when I arrived a week ago to stay at my aunt and uncle’s estate for the summer. Will would remember nothing from that night, and I should do the same. Because it meant nothing.
Yet I’d been relieved, as I settled into the luxurious Randolph mansion, that Will wasn’t home.
Though the house had seemed very large and very empty.
A tall, lean figure walked through the path that magically opened. His face was all smiles. Heads swiveled to follow him, and my breath caught as the lanterns lit up my cousin’s face.
My fists clenched, nails digging into my palms. I was sweating.
Will was the kind of handsome that didn’t seem real. Brown hair, thick and shiny, waved around his ears and brushed his collar. His body was one lithe line. He wore his Oxford shirt and slacks impossibly well. He looked good in clothes, and the way he walked, he knew it. I wondered how he’d look without them, and dug my nails harder into my palms, pushing the thought away.
He was my cousin. And the last time I’d seen him, he’d gotten under my skin, then betrayed me.
But I couldn’t tear my eyes from him. Bobbing lights caught his high cheekbones, his full lips, and the squared angles of his jaw. I’d remembered Will being pretty. Since then, he’d gone from pretty boy to beautiful man, in a way that was never a good idea.
Aunt Rose embraced him lightly, gushing “Welcome home. You couldn’t have timed this better.”
Will kissed her cheek and smiled at the girl who hurried up with a freshly made mojito for him, like he was accustomed to drinks appearing in his hand.
