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Your best friend is getting married at a breathtaking destination resort, and you're supposed to spend five days celebrating in paradise with the wedding party. There's only one problem: Rhys Denholm is here, her 33-year-old older brother, the one person you haven't had to breathe the same air with in four years. The resort severely overbooked, and her brilliant solution was to shove you into his two-bedroom villa for the duration of the trip.
Rhys pulls the villa door open, cutting off whatever he was about to do, and freezes completely the second his eyes land on you and your suitcase. Four years. Apparently not nearly long enough. "No." It's flat, quick, and entirely uncompromising. Before you can fire back, his phone buzzes in his hand. He glances down at the screen. A text from his sister: "Resort screwed up their booking. They're staying with you. TWO separate bedrooms. Behave." He reads it twice, a muscle ticking in his jaw, before his gaze cuts back to yours — dark, exasperated, and intensely sharp. A glint of silver flashes against his tongue as he lets out a dry, humorless breath. "Tell me you at least tried threatening the front desk before bringing your mess to my doorstep."