THEY PILED into the car—Mailah still buzzing from the dress fitting, Grayson looking distracted in a way that made her curious. Lucien and Oliver settled into the back seat, immediately diving into a debate.
Grayson pulled out of the boutique parking area, but instead of heading back toward the villa, he turned in the opposite direction.
Mailah frowned. "Wrong way."
"No, it's not."
"The villa is that way," she said, pointing behind them.
"I know where the villa is." His lips curved—not quite a smile, but close. "We're making a stop first."
"A stop where?"
"You'll see."
Mailah looked at Lucien and Oliver in the rearview mirror. They both looked suspiciously innocent—the kind of innocent that meant they absolutely knew what was happening and weren't telling.
"You're all in on something," she accused.
"We're in on nothing," Lucien said, examining his nails with exaggerated nonchalance.
"Lucien, you're a terrible liar."
"I'm an excellent liar. You just know me too well."
