Jessica stamps her high-heeled foot, "Andrew, I'm being serious! She doesn't deserve you."

Andrew pulls Jessica's hand off the railing and says, "Please, sister, behave yourself."

"I'm not leaving!" Jessica screams, kicking her legs and beating Andrew's chest with her fists.

Andrew pushes her into the bodyguard's waiting arms and says, "James, please deal with her."

"James, if you dare to touch me, I'll cut your hands off!" Jessica screams.

James seems unbothered by Jessica's threats. He sweeps her off her feet and throws her over his shoulder. She hammers on his back and tries to kick his groin, but he holds her legs down with one hand. Jessica screams threats as James carries her down the stairs toward the front door.

Avery yawns and stretches her arms above her head. Slowly, she climbs the first couple of stairs.

"I'm tired, and I want to relax a bit," Avery says. "If Jessica promises to stop screaming, I don't mind if she stays for a while."

James looks to Andrew for approval, and Andrew shrugs. James adjusts his grip on Jessica and starts to carry her up the stairs. She glares down at Avery as she passes and snarls like a feral cat.

Avery sighs and asks Andrew to show her to the living room. Andrew leads her to a big, modern room, and Avery collapses onto the large leather sofa. She grabs a magazine from the coffee table and starts flipping through the glossy pages. After a while, she feels like someone is staring at her. She lowers the magazine and sees Jessica glaring at her from the doorway.

"Why would you divorce Evan and choose my brother?" Jessica asks. "It's weird."

Avery raises the magazine and looks at a series of photos from a recent runway show. She can hear Jessica walking across the room, and she feels the sofa cushion sink slightly as Jessica sits down.

"I'm bored of being Mrs. Howel," Avery says, flipping a page. "And I want to be Mrs. Clifford."

Jessica snatches the magazine and throws it across the room. Avery looks up at her, trying to keep her expression calm and emotionless.

"Why are you so shameless?" Jessica asks. "You'll be a mother soon! Is this the kind of example you want to set for your child?"

Avery pushes herself up into a sitting position without looking away from Jessica. She stares at her calmly and confidently and watches with amusement as Jessica's forehead wrinkled with confusion. I know her type, Avery thinks. She's used to getting everything she wants. Everyone around her is scared of her moods and temper tantrums. She doesn't know what to make of me.

Andrew clears his throat, walks into the room, and sits next to Avery. His thigh brushes against hers, and she scoots away from him.

Jessica's eyes narrow, and she says, "When did you become so tame, Andrew? It's clear this woman doesn't even like you. Why are you so obsessed with her?"

"James, why don't you take Jessica back to her room?" Andrew says. "I'm getting tired of her attitude."

James walks over to the sofa, blocking the light. Avery looks up at him—his face is thin-lipped and handsome, but his eyes are expressionless and mysterious. There's something about him that sets him apart from other bodyguards, but she's not sure what it is.

"Miss Clifford, please come with me," James says.

"You're my personal bodyguard," Jessica complains. "Why are you listening to my brother's orders?"

James sighs and grabs Jessica by her upper arm. She stands and allows him to lead her toward the door, but she complains and whines the whole way. Avery closes her eyes and rubs her temples. I thought she'd be better than Leonie, but now I'm not so sure, Avery thinks. She seems so melodramatic—it'll be exhausting to live with her.

As soon as Jessica leaves, Andrew slides closer to Avery. He puts his arm around her shoulder and nudges her thigh with his. He leans down and brushes his lips along her collarbone.

"At last, we're alone," he whispers. "And I've been keeping track of your pregnancy very carefully. I know it's finally safe for you to make love again."

Avery's stomach lurches, and she shouts, "Actually, Jessica, come back. If we're going to live together, I want to get to know you."

Andrew scowls as Jessica stomps back into the room and throws herself onto a yellow velvet lounge chair. She plays with her long red hair and stares sulkily at both Avery and Andrew. Avery calls for some snacks, but the servant returns with a letter instead.

The servant passes it to Andrew and says, "I believe it's an invitation from Mr. Jackson Oliver."

Andrew grabs the envelope and tears it open, tossing the creamy paper onto the floor. He pulls out a card decorated with dark flowers and a seahorse. He glances at it, and Avery watches his eyes dart back and forth as he reads the message.

Jessica jumps out of her chair and grabs it asking, "What is it? Why did Jackson want to invite you to something? Why didn't he invite me?"

"You'll have to ask him," Andrew says, snatching the invitation out of her hands.

Jessica stomps her foot and balls her hands into fists. Her face is red with anger, but Avery recognizes the uncertainty and insecurity in her eyes. She stamps across the room and jabs one long red fingernail into James' chest.

"Give me my cell phone," she says.

Avery sees her opportunity to escape and says, "I'm tired, and I think I want a nap. I'm going to go upstairs for a bit."

"Do you want company?" Andrew asks, hopefully.

"No, I don't," she says.

A servant leads her up the stairs and down a hall to the master bedroom. Avery pauses in the doorway, but she refuses to go in. The bedroom is undeniably beautiful. Floor to ceiling windows show off the sea and the rainbow flowers below. White curtains hang from the ceiling to the gray carpeted floor. A huge bed sits in the middle of the room—allowing the person in it views of the sea below. Rose petals have been scattered across the crisp white bedspread.

"This looks like a honeymoon suite," Avery says with disgust. "Isn't there another room I could have?"

"If you don't like the decorations, I'm happy to rearrange it for you," the servant says.

"No, I want a private room," Avery says.

The servant's eyes brighten with understanding, and she says, "Oh, well, Mr. Clifford will be sleeping in the study. For now, this room is yours and yours alone."

Avery raises her eyebrows. She's surprised that Andrew is acting like such a gentleman, but she's also suspicious. She nods at the servant, closes the doors, and unpacks her bag. She opens the closet and finds several brand new dresses, skirts, shirts, and pants—it seems Jessica didn't throw everything out the window.

Avery grabs a simple outfit and heads into the large bathroom. The maid has already filled the tub with essential oils and red rose petals. The steam smells like lavender, and she slowly sinks into the warm water. From the tub, she can look at the beach. She closes her eyes and lets her body relax.

Andrew truly knows how to enjoy life, she thinks. I wonder if it's because he was so sick as a child. I know he spent years in and out of the hospital. I bet that's why cherishes time and seeks pleasure more than the average person.

As she relaxes, her mind begins to wander. She sees a tall, familiar figure standing in a large green field. Evan turns around and whispers something, but she can't hear what he's saying. She opens her eyes and stares at the sparkling light on the surface of the bathwater.

She flips onto her stomach and rests her chin on the cool edge of the porcelain tub. She takes a deep breath in through her nose and then exhales through her mouth. It's only been a day, and I already miss him, she thinks. How will I make it through the next six months?

She sighs and tries to focus on her breathing, but she hears a strange noise coming from the bedroom. Slowly, she stands, trying to keep the water from sloshing too loudly. She wraps herself in a silk robe, grabs a bottle of champagne from a tray by the tub, and tiptoes toward the door.