"You better have a very good reason for ignoring over 400 of my calls."

Isabella stared across the marble table with her green eyes completely devoid of the warmth they used to hold for the man sitting opposite her.

The golden ambient lighting of the luxury Ivory Island cafe reflected off Marcus Chen’s perfectly styled hair.

He was currently the most talked-about actor on the planet, having secured the lead role in the world’s most famous television show.

A few months ago, Isabella had found his rising star status and sharp jawline attractive, well partly because they knew each other from way back but now... looking into his cold demanding eyes, she just felt utterly exhausted.

"Four hundred calls, Marcus..." Isabella said with her voice dropping to a low, tight whisper so the surrounding tables wouldn’t hear. "Do you even hear yourself? That isn’t normal... That is plain obsessive."

Marcus’s jaw ticked visibly as his hands remained clasped on the table rigidly.

"I am your boyfriend," Marcus stated as if that single fact excused everything. "My schedule is packed to the minute, and I flew all the way out to this island to see you... I have the right to know where you are and why you aren’t answering your phone."

Isabella felt a flare of genuine irritation spark in her chest.

She was "The Lightning" Leeves.

She had won a global Grand Prix just last year, tearing around corners at two hundred miles an hour with her life on the line.

She was used to freedom and total control over her own steering wheel so having a man sit across from her and demand her location like she was a misbehaving child made her skin crawl.

"I didn’t answer because you were suffocating me," Isabella replied flatly while refusing to break eye contact. "My phone was ringing every three minutes... I came to Ivory Island to relax and get away from the pressure, not to be interrogated."

Marcus narrowed his dark eyes.

"I am trying to protect our brand, Isabella. Do you know how it looks when I show up to an exclusive resort and my girlfriend is nowhere to be found? The media is constantly watching us."

"I don’t care about the media right now." she shot back.

"Well, you should," Marcus scoffed, leaning back in his chair and adjusting the cuffs of his expensive tailored suit. "My show premieres its second season next month... My PR team explicitly told me that our relationship is a massive talking point so we need to be seen together. We need to present a united front."

Isabella stared at him in disbelief.

He didn’t care about how she was feeling.

He didn’t care that she wanted a quiet vacation.

He was entirely focused on his television show and his public relations strategy... The realization hit her like a bucket of cold water, completely severing whatever lingering affection she had left for him.

’He’s just using me for his image...’ Isabella thought with her hands unclenching in her lap.

"So that’s what this is about," Isabella said with her voice turning entirely dismissive. "It’s a business trip for you."

"Don’t twist my words," Marcus warned. "You are my girlfriend. You have responsibilities to this relationship... I expect you to act like it."

That was the absolute breaking point.

Isabella placed both of her hands flat on the cold marble table and pushed herself up.

The legs of her chair scraped loudly against the polished floor with the sound cutting through the low murmur of the cafe.

Several heads from the nearby velvet booths turned to look at them.

"Fuck off, Marcus..." Isabella said with her voice loud enough for the immediate area to hear perfectly.

Marcus’s eyes widened in genuine shock.

He immediately looked around, his flawless actor facade slipping for a fraction of a second.

Even though they were on the highly exclusive Ivory Island where paparazzi were strictly banned from the premises, the cafe was still filled with wealthy guests, socialites and fans.

Isabella could already see three different women in the background subtly raising their luxury smartphones, the camera lenses pointed directly at their table.

Marcus saw them too.

The terrifying demanding aura he had been projecting vanished in an instant.

He plastered a smooth charming smile onto his face, desperately trying to salvage the situation before a video of him getting dumped went viral on the internet.

"Isabella, wait. Let’s not do this here..." Marcus said, his voice entirely different now.

It was soft, placating, and perfectly pitched for the cameras. "I’m sorry. I’m just stressed from the flight... Please, sit down."

Isabella didn’t move. She just looked down at him with a mixture of pity and disgust.

"Let me make it up to you," Marcus continued smoothly, keeping the handsome smile fixed on his face as he looked up at her. "Let’s have a proper date tomorrow afternoon. Just the two of us. I’ll send you the details so we can talk about everything calmly."

Isabella let out a long tired sigh.

She could feel the eyes of the entire cafe burning into her back. The absolute last thing she wanted right now was to cause a massive screaming scene that would trend on social media by morning.

She just wanted to go back to her room and disappear.

"Okay," Isabella said shortly.

She didn’t wait for his response.

She turned on her heel and began walking swiftly toward the exit. Her manager, who had been sitting quietly at a booth near the door, immediately stood up and followed her out into the warm tropical night.

...

Twenty minutes later, Isabella was sitting in the quiet back seat of a rented private luxury SUV as it drove smoothly back toward her resort villa.

The silence in the car was a massive relief after the tense atmosphere of the cafe.

She leaned her head back against the soft leather headrest and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to massage the forming headache out of her temples.

She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. The screen was dark, but the notification light was blinking steadily.

She swiped her thumb over the glass, unlocking the device.

Instead of another barrage of missed calls from Marcus, she saw a string of unread text messages from Wren.

Her heart did a strange sudden flutter in her chest.

She opened the chat thread.

She had abruptly stopped replying to him earlier when Marcus had unexpectedly walked into the cafe, and Wren had noticed the sudden silence.

[Wren: Are you alright? You left the chat abruptly.]

[Wren: Let me know if you need me to come down there.]

[Wren: Isabella?]

Isabella stared at the glowing screen.

The contrast between the two men was staggering.

Marcus had called her four hundred times to demand her location and scold her for ruining his PR strategy... Wren had sent three messages, completely calm, simply asking if she was safe and offering to come help her if she needed it.

Wren didn’t care about her brand... He didn’t care about cameras... He was just protective.

A small genuine smile touched her lips.

She tapped her thumbs rapidly against the digital keyboard, wanting to reassure him without giving away the complete disaster of her current situation.

[Isabella: I’m okay. Just some annoying PR management stuff.]

She hesitated for a second before typing the next line.

[Isabella: But I’m going to be a bit busy tomorrow. I’ll make it up to you soon.]

She hit send, locking the phone and dropping it back into her purse.

She felt a twinge of guilt for not telling him the full truth about the date with Marcus, but she figured she would just get the lunch over with tomorrow, break things off cleanly, and then go straight to Wren’s suite afterward.

...

The next afternoon, the Ivory Island sun was bright and blinding as it streamed through the towering glass windows of the same exclusive restaurant.

Isabella was sitting at a prime table, dressed in a stunning, elegant sundress that hugged her curves perfectly.

She had her sunglasses pushed up into her hair, and a tall glass of sparkling water rested in front of her.

Sitting directly opposite her, looking like he had just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine was Marcus Chen.

He was wearing a casual but wildly expensive linen button-down, the top three buttons left undone to show off his collarbone.

He was currently in the middle of a long incredibly detailed story about his acting career.

"...and the director just couldn’t understand my vision for the scene," Marcus said, gesturing with his fork. "I told him, my character wouldn’t just walk into the room. He needs an entrance... He needs the lighting to focus entirely on his expression... It’s about presence, Isabella. You have to command the room the second you step into it."

Isabella took a slow sip of her water.

She was completely tuning him out.

She was watching his lips move, watching his hands gesture, but she wasn’t absorbing a single word he was saying.

Her mind was miles away from the restaurant... She was thinking about Wren.

She compared the two men in her head, and the difference was night and day.

Marcus was sitting here, talking endlessly about how he needed special lighting and specific camera angles to command a room.

He was boasting about fake presence on a television set but Wren didn’t boast.

’Wren wouldn’t be sitting here talking about himself for twenty minutes...’ Isabella thought, her gaze drifting down to the pristine white tablecloth.

Her mind immediately flashed back to yesterday.

She remembered the exact, burning heat of Wren’s hands gripping her waist and she remembered the dark hungry look in his blue eyes right before he kissed her.

A sudden wave of heat rushed straight down to her insides.

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, crossing her legs under the table. The memory of Wren’s touch was making her actively aroused right in the middle of a crowded restaurant.

The boredom of Marcus’s monologue combined with the lingering frustration from last night was driving her crazy.

She realized with certainty that she would rather be anywhere else in the world than sitting at this table.

"...so I called my agent, and I told him, if they don’t rewrite the script, I’m walking," Marcus finished while leaning back with a smug smile. "What do you think?"

Isabella blinked, pulling herself out of her explicit thoughts. "I think... I need to use the restroom."

Marcus’s smile faltered slightly at the abrupt interruption, but he nodded. "Of course. Don’t take too long, the main course is arriving soon."

Isabella didn’t bother replying.

She stood up from the table, smoothing down the front of her elegant dress, and turned her back on him.

Isa walked quickly away from the sunlit dining room with her high heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor.

She desperately needed to splash some cold water on her face and figure out exactly how she was going to end this miserable date.

Isa turned the corner, entering the long quiet hallway located at the very back of the restaurant.

The opulent hallway was completely empty.

The walls were lined with expensive modern art, and the lighting was dim and moody.

At the far end of the corridor were two solid oak doors. The Women’s restroom was on the left, and the Men’s restroom was directly opposite it on the right.

Isabella walked down the center of the hall, letting out a long shaky breath.

She reached her hand out toward the elegant handle of the Women’s room.

Before her fingers could even brush the metal, the door to the Men’s restroom on her right suddenly pulled open.

A strong incredibly muscular arm shot out from the dark gap and clamped directly over her waist.

"Ah—!" Isabella gasped with the sound cutting short as she was yanked forcefully backward.

She stumbled in her heels with her back hitting a broad solid chest as she was pulled directly into the Men’s restroom.

The thick oak door slammed shut immediately behind them as the deadbolt clicked loudly into place.

Isa spun around with her heart hammering frantically in her chest, ready to scream but the scream died in her throat.

Standing right in front of her, his tall frame blocking the locked door entirely, was Wren.

He was wearing a dark, casual shirt that stretched tightly across his broad shoulders.

His blue eyes were narrowed and his expression completely unreadable as he stared down at her.

"Wren?" Isabella whispered as her eyes went wide with shock. "What... what are you doing here?"

Wren didn’t smile. He took a slow step forward, forcing her to back up until her shoulder blades hit the cool tiled wall of the restroom.

He reached out, placing his hands flat against the tiles on either side of her head, completely boxing her in.

"I wasn’t happy about your texts last night," Wren said. "You were being vague. You said you were dealing with PR management stuff and that you would be busy today."

Isabella swallowed hard with her throat clicking. The intense look in his eyes was making her skin burn.

"I didn’t lie," Isabella murmured defensively. "It is PR stuff."

"You didn’t mention you were on a date..." Wren corrected with his gaze dropping down to her lips before flicking back up to her eyes. "You didn’t mention you were sitting out there wearing a dress like that for another man."

A fierce bright red blush exploded across Isabella’s cheeks.

The jealousy in his voice sent a massive jolt of electricity straight down her spine.

He had tracked her down... He had watched her sitting at that table, and he had waited in the restroom hallway just to ambush her...

It was insane, it was reckless, and it was the hottest thing she had ever experienced.

"Wren, please," Isabella stammered with her breath hitching as he leaned closer and his chest brushed against hers. "My boyfriend is sitting just a few yards away in the main dining room. If he comes looking for me... if someone walks in here..."

Wren completely ignored the warning.

He didn’t care about Marcus Chen... He didn’t care about the restaurant staff or the other wealthy guests.

His blue eyes flicked over her shoulder, looking toward the back of the restroom.

There was a row of massive, floor-to-ceiling luxury stalls, completely enclosed from the floor to the ceiling with thick wooden doors.

Wren looked back down at her flushed face.

"I don’t care about him," Wren said dismissively.

He lowered his head with his lips hovering just an inch from her ear. "I only care about you. So tell me the truth, Isabella."

He paused, letting the silence stretch out, before asking the question.

"Who do you prefer spending time with? Me or him?"

Isabella opened her mouth, her brain completely short-circuiting. She wanted to form a coherent sentence and she wanted to tell him that this was crazy and they needed to stop.

But before she could even utter a single syllable, Wren kissed her.

It wasn’t a gentle probing kiss.

It was a completely devastating takeover. Wren smashed his lips against hers, parting her mouth immediately.

His tongue invaded her heat immediately, tasting the sparkling water she had just been drinking.

"Mmph~!" Isabella moaned directly into his mouth.

All of her logical protests vanished in a split second. Her hands, which had been pressed defensively against his chest, instantly slid up to grip his broad shoulders.

She kissed him back with equal hunger with her body entirely betraying her.

Wren didn’t break the kiss.

He slid his hands down to her waist, gripping the fabric of her elegant sundress and began walking her backward.

Isabella stumbled along with him with her eyes closed, completely lost in the sensation of his mouth devouring hers.

Wren guided her blindly backward until they stepped directly inside one of the massive luxury stalls.

He reached behind him and slammed the wooden stall door shut, throwing the metal latch into the lock.

They were completely sealed inside the small enclosed space.

The second the door clicked locked, Wren’s hands moved. He didn’t waste any time.

He brought his hands up the front of her dress, gripping her soft breasts directly through the thin elegant fabric.

He squeezed the soft flesh expertly, kneading her curves and rolling his thumbs over her sensitive peaks.

"Ahnn~!" Isabella let out a soft helpless moan, throwing her head back against the stall wall.

The sound bounced off the tiles.

The danger of the situation—knowing her world-famous boyfriend was literally sitting out in the dining room while another man was ruthlessly fondling her in a public restroom fueled her arousal to astronomical heights.

"You’re a pervert, aren’t you?"

She was completely dripping wet.

Her insides throbbed with intense heat, weeping into her lace panties.

Wren pulled back from her lips, leaving them swollen and shiny with saliva.

He looked down at her flushed, gorgeous face with his chest heaving slightly.

"I want to continue exactly what we were doing yesterday," Wren whispered and Isabella’s face burned a violent shade of red.

She knew exactly what he meant... He wanted to finish the job right here, in the middle of a public restaurant, risking total social ruin for both of them.

She should have argued and she should have pushed him away and walked out but Isabella didn’t argue.

She looked up into his demanding blue eyes, completely surrendering her control to him, and gave a tiny desperate nod of consent.

Wren smiled.

He immediately dove back in, capturing her lips in another brutal hungry kiss and as their tongues tangled together, his hands moved around to the back of her elegant sundress with his fingers aggressively grabbing the zipper and starting to take off her clothes.

Wren pinned her against the stall wall.

’I really am not a good person...’