58. ICY TOUCH

REMY'S POV. I knew Isla was a messy drinker. I’d seen it once before, at Elwin's party. But back then, it was harmless, a little too much champagne, a few slurred words, nothing like this. This, however, was a whole new level of chaos. From dragging me into her pink-hued bedroom to the champagne bottle she had snatched from my limo, Isla Maynard seemed intent on testing every ounce of my restraint tonight. I thought it would end quickly. Get her tucked in, leave her to sleep it off, and be done with it. But no. I was sitting on her bed now, watching her strut across the room like she hadn’t just hijacked my night. "Be my guest," she said, holding the champagne bottle aloft like a trophy. She was different now bolder. Her gaze locked onto mine, daring me to respond. She wasn’t the Isla I had met before, the one who was all polite smiles and carefully chosen words. This was the Isla I had always wanted to see, the fire beneath the ice. And God help me, I wasn’t complaining. It had cost m