Page 8 of Have To Be Mine

“That attitude is exactly why you’re getting a consultant,” Adrian said, but there was less edge to his voice now.

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll go to Greece. I’ll work with the babysitter. I’ll make sure your swimwear line launches without a hitch.” I grabbed my wine glass and raised it. “To bathing suits and beaches. If I’m going to be exiled, at least it’s somewhere with a view.”

I could do this. I could pull it together for three weeks. How distracting could one military consultant be? I’d charm her, keep her off my back, and do what I did best—make magic happen when it counted.

I could really do worse.

Greece in the summer. Models in bikinis. Beaches and sunshine and endless opportunities to forget about the dark-haired woman who’d walked away from me at the wedding.

Yeah. I could definitely handle this.

“So when do I meet her?” I asked. “The consultant.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Mandy warned.

“What?” I asked innocently.

“She’s not a woman to chase,” Adrian said. “This woman has a special set of skills that will keep you on track. And in line.”

I laughed at the image of Liam Neeson that popped into my head. I loved that movie.

“A special set of skills? What? Special ops? A marine? Is she going to whip me into shape?”

“Careful,” Adrian growled. “She reports directly to me. Yes, she’s your babysitter. And like I said, ex-military. I wouldn’t even try to mess with her. She can and will put you in check.”

“Whatever.”

“For the next three weeks, your only priority is to make sure that all campaign-related events go smoothly. There are four events total spread across Athens, Corfu, Mykonos, and Santorini. Get some sleep, little brother. You’re going to need it.”

I stood up, suddenly needing to get out of this room and away from all the judgment. They were all waiting for me to fail. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go pack for my exile.”

“Dash,” Mom started.

“I’m kidding, Mom. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll make you proud. I promise.”

I left before anyone could say anything else. I didn’t want to hear anything else about my new drill sergeant.

I had less than twenty-four hours to get my shit together and prepare for a few weeks in Greece with a military consultant watching my every move.

This was going to suck.

4

KRISTA

Istood in the middle of the hotel suite with my phone in hand, staring at the chaos spread across the king-sized bed. Designer clothes still had tags attached. Shoes in boxes I hadn’t even opened. A jewelry case filled with pieces I would never consider buying myself. There was an assortment of skincare products that looked like they belonged in a spa.

The suite itself was ridiculous. Huge windows overlooking Athens with a marble bathroom bigger than my entire bedroom back home. And a balcony I’d stood on for twenty minutes last night just trying to process that this was my life for the next three weeks.

The Blackwell family was very generous. They were serious about covering all my expenses and then some. There was only one person I wanted to share it with. I hit the video call button.

Dad’s face filled the screen. He was already dressed in his usual morning uniform of a faded Army T-shirt and cargo shorts. The Florida sun was streaming through the window behind him, catching the silver in his close-cropped hair. He would forever wear the high-and-tight.

“There’s my girl,” he said, grinning. “How’s Greece treating you?”

“You need to see this.” I flipped the camera around and gave him a slow pan of the suite. “This is where they’re putting me up.”

He whistled low. “Well, my goodness. That’s some fancy digs, young lady.”