"Where's Hunt?" Daisy shrieked.

Shrieked.

Daisy never shrieked.

Joshua's eyes roamed over her barely-clothed body like a rough, greedy caress, and Daisy shuddered in every place that entitled gaze touched.

"Babe ..." He licked his lips as he took in her scrappy lingerie, seemingly beyond words.

Daisy clutched her robe, pulling it over herself and tightening the ribbon. And it wasn't lost on her—that her first reaction to being appreciatively checked out by a man she'd been dating the week prior was to hide.

Joshua noticed, too.

But his offence—if he held any at all—quickly turned to amusement.

"You're still mad, aren't you, gorgeous?" He threaded his brow with mock sincerity, a mirror to the condescending quirk of his lips. "About our spat?"

"We didn't have a spat, Joshua," Daisy hissed. "We broke up."

"Ah. That's right." Joshua grinned, loosening his polka-dotted tie as he settled against the bedhead. The sheets were still ruffled from where Hunt had been sitting when she'd—

Hunt.

"Where is he?" Daisy asked again, storming into the room. She scoured every inch, as though she'd find Hunt sitting on the couch or leaning back against the window or hiding behind the wardrobe door, a hand cupped to his mouth, his shoulders shaking with the need to laugh.

He wasn't.

He was gone.

"You mean Tarzan?" Joshua scoffed dryly, indifferent to the way her frantic eyes searched for any sign of a man who wasn't him. Not even that strange, leather notebook was on the bedside table anymore.

Nor, Daisy noticed, was Hunt's phone or wallet.

Her stomach tumbled. She didn't know much, but she knew this wasn't good. The voices she'd heard ... The door had slammed shut ...

Daisy whirled, eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

"I have to say, Dais," Joshua said, checking a notification on his phone, "I'm shocked at how quickly you moved on."

The commotion she'd heard through the bathroom wall ... Of course it wasn't Lai or Kenji; they were at their Commitment Ceremony. Everyone was. The creak had been Joshua entering.

The slam had been Hunt leaving.

Daisy clawed her hair. Shit. How did everything always manage to go to such monumental shit?

Joshua's smile was tilted. Smug. "Not your usual type, gorge—"

"Where is he?" she demanded, spinning to the bed.

Josh started at her indignation, arching a blonde brow. But he chose not to pull her up on it, looking down to consult his Rolex. "Well, after I told him that your boyfriend was here—"

"You what?" Horror rocked through her.

Joshua rolled his green eyes, the colour muted by the richer greenery on the other side of the windows. "I know you've never been one for labels, Dais. But, all things considered—"

"Considering I broke up with you, Joshua, the only thing you should be considering is getting the hell out of my room before I consider calling hotel security." Panic was turning to anger, and Joshua was the only living target within range.

Not that he seemed to care.

He picked some lint off his pressed slacks. Fiddled with his cufflinks. Checked his phone when it pinged again, then bared his teeth at his reflection in the screen, checking for remnants of breakfast. He was at a tropical resort, and he still looked like he was ready to lead a nine o'clock meeting.

"Considering," he crooned breezily, sliding his tongue over his teeth, "that this room is also booked under my name, I don't know how well that would fare for you, babe."

Daisy was seething.

"Besides." Joshua yawned, then launched himself off the bed, aiming for the mini-fridge. Daisy's heart was a war drum as he opened it, pulling out a bottle of champagne. "There's something we need to talk about." He read the label, scowled, but promptly grabbed two glasses from the bar cart.

She folded her arms over her chest. "There's nothing we need to talk about—"

"Davison was asking about you," he interrupted, pouring himself a glass. He took a swig, then poured the second, glancing at her as though she was listening. "He's taken a shine to you, it seems. I mentioned our spat, told him about this place. Good news." He extended the second glass toward her. "He's moved our company trip here this week. All expenses paid. He even booked the treehouses closer to the Gorge. Far nicer than these shabby things."

Daisy glared at him.

He jingled the drink. Like she was a dog, the champagne a delicious, juicy bone.

When she failed to heed his command, he shrugged, placing the glass down.

"Long story short ..." Josh took another sip from his glass, and Daisy shivered at the sound that came out of his mouth as he savoured the taste. Was he always sick a walking ick? "Our little problem is solved. Oh, and I got you those." He waved in the direction of the coffee table, where a bouquet of white flowers had been set on the glass.

Flowers. A peace offering. The last tick on his list labelled A Jerk's Guide to Apologising Without Actually Apologising At All.

Daisy blinked at the lily bouquet, her face contorting into a look of disgust. As though he'd brought a wild dog into the room and let it trod all over the bed.

"Josh ..." She blinked some more. He was perusing the fridge again, aiming for Daisy and Hunt's half-eaten box of chocolates. "I'm allergic to lilies."

"No. You love lilies."

"No," she said between gritted teeth. "I'm allergic."

"Huh." Josh rummaged through the chocolates. They'd only left the dark chocolates—gross, Daisy and Hunt had mutually decided—but Daisy knew even before Joshua grabbed a handful that he didn't share their aversion. "I had no idea."

She was blinking so much that the room was strobing. "Yes, you did. The night Vonetta introduced us, I had to step outside because of the lily centrepieces. Then you followed me, and you were being all presumptuous and asked what flowers to get me on Valentine's Day instead, and I said ..." She paused, waiting for him to jump in.

Any moment.

Joshua said nothing. Just licked the melted chocolate from his thumb.

She glared. "Daisies, Josh. And you said: that should be easy enough to remember."

He had the good sense, at least, to grimace.

"Sorry, gorgeous. Really. I knew it was something about lilies." Like that made up for it. "Anyway." He stowed the champagne and chocolates in the fridge. "Everyone will be here tomorrow. Which"—his voice deepened—"gives us a whole night to, you know, catch up—"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Joshua's eyes slid up, bulging. She never spoke to him like that. Never cared to. Anger, disappointment ... All of it was rooted in emotion, in passion. Two things that didn't have a place in their situationship, as far as Daisy had been concerned. Sure, Joshua pissed her off sometimes, but she'd never felt an urge to throttle him, or shove him, or beat him with a whisk. And that was probably a good thing.

Still.

"Josh ..." Daisy shook her head furiously, her vision blurring. "You need to leave."

He cocked his head. "Leave?"

"Like, go. Get out." She stormed into the bathroom, grabbed her dress, and positioned herself behind the door as she tore off her robe. "I told you we were done. There's no solving anything. Done, Josh."

"But—"

"But you made your boss a promise," she supplied. "You told Davison I'd be here." She poked her head out from behind the door. "What about the promise you made to my friends? To me?"

He tutted loudly, as though she was a small child. "That's a bit different, Daisy. And I know it pissed you off, but I'm here now. I got on a two a.m. plane, for god's sake. And I'm trying to make this"—he motioned between them—"work."

She held his gaze. "Why?"

He frowned.

"It's a simple question, Josh." She slipped through the door, fully clothed again, and hovered in front of him. "Why are you suddenly trying?"

A strange mixture of emotions washed over his face; confusion, then determination, then ... realisation.

Because the two of them were casual. That was their mutual, unspoken arrangement. They did the couple stuff when he was in town; they accompanied each other to work events, playing the role of happy little couple to help them fit in with their older, married coworkers. They did the physical stuff to help take the edge off, and the sex was fine. Predictable, but fine. But that was where the expectations ended.

So, even though she'd asked, Daisy already knew why Josh wanted to make things work. It was the perfect arrangement for him. Especially now that Davison had taken a shine to her. That's all he'd ever cared about. Sucking up to his boss. And, clearly, whatever connection Daisy and Davison had formed while the rest of his company was at SkyPoint clearly made an impression. One Joshua hoped would rub off on him. That's all Daisy was to Josh; something pretty to hang off his arm. Something to make him look good.

And it wasn't his fault any more than it was hers. He was never anything more to her, either. She hadn't wanted him to be. That's what they'd agreed to. What they'd both signed up for. She was the one who'd invited him on a romantic getaway with her friends, changing the rules, forcing him to play catch-up. She knew it. Josh knew it.

But they didn't have the foundation to jump into new territory.

His eyes flashed. "One week."

She groaned.

He pleaded, "One week, Dais. That's all I ask." He stepped into the gulf between them, pressing his hands to his chest. "I'll pay for your stay. I'll reimburse you for the work you miss—"

She scowled. "It's not about the money."

"I know it's not. But I owe you. Please." His exhale was unsteady, and when he blinked, she saw something like vulnerability in his eyes. Despite everything they'd done together, she thought it might have been the most real thing she'd ever seen from him.

Josh smiled tentatively. For the first time, she noticed that those weren't polka dots on his tie, but tiny, tropical fish.

It was almost endearing. The week before, it might have been enough.

She raised her hand, smacking it over her eyes like a blindfold. "What colour are my eyes?"

Joshua sputtered. "What?"

"My eyes. What colour are they?"

"Ah ... blue."

Okay. True.

And yet ...

Slowly, Daisy peeled her hand from over her eyes. Joshua was staring at her like she'd lost her mind.

Actually, she might have just found it.

And he must have seen it on her face—the fact that he'd gotten the answer right, and yet somehow still gotten it so, so wrong.

He jerked forward with newfound resolve. "What if we pretend?"

Daisy tilted her head, her copper curls brushing her shoulder.

"Pretend to be together," Joshua clarified, nodding. "How hard can it be?"

Despite her fury at him and her anxiety over Hunt, Daisy felt the strangest urge to laugh.

He saw her lips curving. Leaned forward in anticipation.

"I can't, Josh."

His face guttered. "Why?"

Because I don't want to. Because you don't deserve it. Because my heart belongs to someone else.

"Because." She shrugged. "I'm a terrible liar."

God, she wished Hunt was there. She thought he would have smirked. She could picture him clamping his lips together as he tried not to laugh.

Hunt.

She pushed past Josh, who'd gone quite still, and aimed for her shoes.

"That's it, then?" he asked. No anger. No judgement.

She nodded.

A deep, unsteady breath punched out of him. He sunk to the edge of the bed, his eyes going distant. Thinking up something to tell Davison, no doubt.

Daisy swallowed.

Human.

Josh was selfish, and insensitive, and ... okay, Hunt was right—Josh was a bit of a jerk. But he was still human. And they had spent a lot of time together.

More time apart than actually together ...

Still.

"Tell him I cheated."

Josh's head shot up.

Daisy braced a hand on the vanity, popping on her shoes. "Make me the bad guy."

Joshua gaped. "Why?"

"Consider it a parting gift."

His lips quirked. "And here I was settling for one last look at that." He nodded to her ass, not looking the slightest bit remorseful.

She winced. "Have you always been this much of a sleaze?"

Joshua just slid his hands into his pockets. "You can't wear lingerie like that around a guy and not expect him to get a little fuzzy-headed."

But Hunt hadn't.

Hell, all week Daisy had been parading around in skimpy nightgowns, in pyjamas so threadbare they were basically just lingerie. Still, Hunt had barely even looked at her until she'd asked him to.

And it wasn't because he hated them.

With a strange sort of vulnerability pulling between them—perhaps for the first time ever—Daisy turned to Joshua, and asked, "Did you really tell him that you were my boyfriend?"

"Who?"

She was back to blinking rapidly. "The guy on the bed, Joshua." She arched a brow. "Tarzan?"

"Ah." His gaze flickered behind him, as though replaying what she imagined must have been a very tense moment between two very confused men. "I did. Yeah. Got a bit possessive, actually. Both of us did. I might have ... alluded to you using him." He grimaced. "To get back at me."

Daisy's stomach took up diving. Rage sizzled inside of her. But ...

Not worth it.

Her priorities lay elsewhere.

Tears pricked her eyes as she grabbed her phone. She could only imagine Hunt's face when Joshua turned up and told him they were, in fact, together—after she'd insisted over and over that they weren't. She didn't want to think about what Hunt must have thought of her afterwards.

He'd left. Thought she'd used him. Worse; he thought she'd lied. And after all the trust issues Vanessa had left him with, it was very likely he'd never want to speak to her again.

She had to find him. Had to try to explain.

Joshua hovered behind her, looking more awkward than she'd ever seen him. "Should I ..."

"Please." Daisy clamped her eyes shut. Counted to three before she faced him. Anger was still a song in her blood, but she fought through the urge to tear out his throat. "Just go. Call Davison." She waved a hand. "Whatever."

And that was her last word to Joshua.

Whatever.

Daisy already had her phone to her ear, silently begging Hunt to pick up by the time Joshua strolled to the door. He opened it.

And found Honey and Matthew on the other side, one wielding a frying pan, the other waving a fly swatter.

Daisy gawked.

Joshua eyed them warily, but had the good sense not to say anything as he slipped around them and into the common area.

Hunt's phone rang out.

Daisy swore. Dialled his number again.

Honey stammered, "Who was that?" at the same time Daisy motioned to the frying pan and fly swatter, asking, "What the hell are you two doing?"

Honey lowered the pan, but her eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Hunt said some guy was in your room," Matthew explained. "He looked like he was in a hurry to get out of here, but he asked me to keep an ear out in case things got ... ugly."

Well, that was nice. Still, what could Matthew do if Joshua went all psycho-ex on Daisy? Pray him to death? Lord knew he wasn't about to actually use that fly swatter.

"Was he mad?" Daisy asked. "Hunt? Did he look upset?"

"I didn't take much notice." Matthew shrugged. "Was a bit distracted with the whole 'there's a strange man in our room' thing."

Daisy didn't doubt it.

"Did he say where he was going?"

The reverend shook his head.

Super helpful.

Honey looked between Daisy and the stairs as Matthew left them to it, asking again, "Who was that guy?"

Daisy flew into the common area, her phone to her ear as she scanned the kitchen, the lounge ... But Hunt wasn't there.

His number rang out a third time.

"Joshua," she replied absentmindedly. Air was crowding her lungs.

Honey stopped short. "No it wasn't."

Daisy barely heard her as she pressed the dial button again. God, where was Hunt? Why wasn't he answering his phone? Hearing her out? After everything?

I really like you, Daisy.

Not enough to trust her, apparently. Not enough to take her at face value, or to let her explain.

This was so messed up.

Honey placed a hand on Daisy's arm, forcing her to meet her eye.

Which was when Daisy realised that she'd started to cry.

"Dais?" Honey crept closer, brown eyes softening. "What is it?"

Daisy's lips trembled. "I've ruined everything."

Honey's eyes flashed with understanding. "You cheated on Hunt?" There wasn't even a fleck of judgement in her voice, despite everything Matthew had put her through.

"No." Daisy's vision blurred. "He thinks I cheated on Joshua with him."

Honey tried to look understanding, but Daisy was sure she was two seconds away from calling the nuthouse. Surely at least an exorcism was coming her way.

Daisy blew out a breath. And as the first tear streamed down her cheek, she started from the top.

"This is unbelievable," Honey murmured to herself as she trailed Daisy across a footbridge over a sparkling cerulean pool. "It's like the plot of an Ali Bailey novel."

Daisy sighed, frantically searching the lake-side deck speckled with guests for one familiar face. "I know—" She cut herself short, squinting through the glare to peer at Honey over her shoulder. "You read Ali Bailey?"

Her friend waved a hand dismissively, a flash of a tan line where her wedding ring should be snagging Daisy's focus. "I've had sex twice since my honeymoon, Dais. Of course I read Ali Bailey."

Fair.

Also, finally. Belle read classics, and Laia read cookbooks; Daisy desperately needed someone to discuss her book boyfriend of the week with.

"Did Hunt seem mad to you?" she asked.

"You mean beyond his perpetual broody-ness?"

Daisy threw up her hands. "Does everyone think he's broody except me?" Although right now was not a great example of the chronically positive outlook she'd come to adore—

Daisy's pulse sped up when she finally found the face she was looking for. She made a sharp turn to cut a path through the crowd sunbathing beside the pools.

Honey made a shrill noise in the back of her throat as she staggered in her heels to keep up. "Where are we going?"

"Lifeguard."

"Um. Why?" Honey dodged a small child juggling a triple scoop cone that almost wound up on her pristine dress. "Do you need sunscreen or something?"

"No running around the pool," the lifeguard standing poolside told two girls Daisy recognised from her