Brothers of Paradise Series

My reaction is borne from instinct. I dive off the edge and break the surface of the cold water. The pool isn’t large and I reach Jordan quickly, wrapping my arms around her.

She’s limp in my arms. The flowy fabric of her dress is heavy, pulling her down, and she’d fallen into the deep end. I kick my legs against the weight of the water to keep us both afloat. Stunned guests look at us around the edge of the pool.

Nobody helps.

Strong arms brush against mine beneath the surface, wrapping around Jordan. She’s pulled out of my grasp entirely.

Rhys comes into view. The man who’d disparaged me as vain and air-headed, his dark hair now plastered in unruly curls over his forehead. He moves in two strong, skilled strokes and then he’s reached the stairs in the pool.

I swim after him, gaze locked on Jordan’s face. She lolls against his shoulder.

“Jordan?” I kneel on the steps, half-submerged in water. “Jordan, wake up.”

She blinks twice, and then coughs, struggling to sit. Rhys releases her but stays next to us in the water.

“Fainted,” she whispers, and then breaks into a coughing fit that racks her body. I put an arm around her shoulders and look over at Rhys. He gazes back with serious intent, none of the snideness I’d seen earlier.

“Help me get her to the pool house,” I tell him.

He doesn’t respond, simply slides his arms around Jordan and lifts her straight out of the water. The crowd parts around us as he carries her toward the adjoining building.

I rush ahead, shaky from the adrenaline, the dress clinging like a second skin to my body. I pull open the door for him. “Put her on the couch.”

Grabbing towels, I drape them over her and smooth her hair back from her forehead. She’s starting to shake.

“Jordan? Are you okay?”

She nods, then closes her eyes. “I can’t believe I fainted here.”

“Lucky you fell into the pool,” Rhys says. He’s retreated, hands deep in the pockets of his wet chinos. The shirt clings to broad shoulders and forms droplets on the tan skin. “A fall on the stone would have been far worse.”

Jordan glances at him, eyes wide. A realization dawns in them. “Tina is going to drop me,” she whispers.Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

“She will do no such thing,” I tell her firmly. “The agency wouldn’t have sent you here if they didn’t like your work.”

“This is my first booking,” she whispers.

And her fear makes sense, as does my sneaking suspicion that she fainted because she hadn’t eaten, hadn’t had enough to drink, and standing out there in the sun did her in.

I grit my teeth. “When was the last time you ate?”

The guilty look on her face is enough, even if she doesn’t answer me.

“All right,” I say, all my physical therapy and anatomy lessons kicking in. “You need to change into warm clothing. There are towels in the bathroom. Think you can do that?”

She nods, and I help her walk to the en suite. “Don’t lock the door,” I tell her. “I’ll stand guard, but if you get the least bit dizzy, call out.”

“I will,” she whispers, pushing the door closed behind her.

I blow out a frustrated breath and run a hand through my now wet length of hair. Tina won’t be happy about this, that much is true. The head of our modeling agency rules it with an iron fist. And every model I talk to who doesn’t eat enough reminds me why I dislike this part-time industry of mine.

“You should change too,” Rhys points out, nodding tactfully to my second-skin dress. A glance down reveals what I already know-my nipples are hard and visible through the fabric. Thank you, unheated pool.

I cross my arms over my chest. “You dove in after us.”

He nods. “Of course.”

“Thank you.” The words come out through gritted teeth. His words to his friends still ring in my head. Vain. Air-headed. They’re just models, as if our profession and our identities are fused. I hate it when people do that.

His mouth quirks at a corner, like he’s smiling at a joke only he’s heard. “All right,” he says. “Do you need anything else?”

Anything else? As if Jordan and I had asked for his help. “No thank you,” I tell him. “We’re just models, after all.”

He runs a hand through his wet hair, smile widening on his face. “That’s right.”

Completely unashamed.

The sight of that smile is so disarming that I take a few steps back, caught off guard. The steady dripping of water from my hair echoes in the room.

“I should change.”

“Of course.” He turns to leave, but pauses with a hand on the door out of the pool house. “You had quick reflexes earlier.”

The words are spoken like it’s the greatest of compliments.

“Uh… yes.”

A single nod of his head, and then he disappears, the door closing behind him. When Jordan and I emerge later, there’s an overflowing plate of food pilfered from the catering table waiting outside. But the man who’d left it is long gone

.

Rhys

Two weeks later

“It’s been a long time since we’ve made a bet like this,” I comment, following Ben down the hallways of his luxury travel agency. He’d been tired of me complaining about how all the commercial stuff was beneath me. You think you can shoot my next travel campaign better than a marketing agency?

There had been only one answer to that.

Of course I can.

Ben chuckles. “A decade, perhaps more.”

“Remind me to stop going out with you,” I tell him, “or I’ll keep bargaining weeks of my life away.”

“Admit it. You love the challenge.”

I don’t answer. I look at the framed, glossy pictures that line the walls of his agency instead. Highly edited. Oversaturated. Beautiful beaches and turquoise, mirror-like water. It’s easy. Basic.