The Dune Club was a fortress of hedges and white-clad elitism. Vivian drove her red convertible past the gatehouse, flashing Hunter's card with a smile that could melt steel.

"Mr. Sterling isn't with you?" the guard asked, frowning at the card. "And this card... the system is flagging a hold."

Vivian didn't blink. She leaned out of the car, lowering her sunglasses. "Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, Miss Sterling, but-"

"Then you know my father owns the media conglomerate that decides which Hamptons clubs get featured in the 'Summer's Best' list and which ones get exposed for health code violations in the kitchen." She smiled sweetly. "My fiancé is meeting me on the ninth hole. Open the gate, or I make a phone call."

The guard hesitated. He looked at the card, then at her. The threat of bad press was worth more than a membership rule.

He opened the gate.

Vivian parked and changed into a white tennis skirt that was borderline scandalous and a tight polo shirt. She rented a golf cart and drove onto the course.

She found him on the 14th hole.

Julian was mid-swing. The motion was fluid, powerful, and terrifyingly precise. The ball soared through the air, landing inches from the pin.

Beside him stood Silas Vance, a tech billionaire and Julian's only known friend.

Vivian slammed her foot on the gas. The electric cart whirred loudly as she skidded to a halt right next to the tee box.

"Fore!" she yelled cheerfully.

Julian turned slowly. He was wearing navy slacks and a white polo that emphasized the tan of his arms. He lowered his sunglasses.

"You have got to be kidding me," he said.

Silas laughed. "Is this the stalker? She's hotter in person."

Vivian hopped out of the cart. She walked right up to Julian, ignoring the radiating waves of hostility.

"You didn't return my calls," she said, pouting.

"Because I filed a restraining order," Julian said through gritted teeth. "It should be served to you any minute."

"I haven't received it yet," Vivian said, stepping closer. She reached out and straightened his collar. "So technically, I'm just a friendly acquaintance."

Julian grabbed her wrist. His grip was hard. "You are trespassing."

"I'm a guest," she said. She leaned in, dropping her voice. "Take the case, Julian. Or I'm going to start screaming that you got me pregnant."

Silas choked on his water.

Julian's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me. I have nothing left to lose."

Julian pulled her closer, until her chest bumped against his. "You think this is a game? You think because you're a pretty little rich girl, nothing can touch you?"

He looked at her with such intensity that Vivian's knees went weak.

"I think," she whispered, "that you're the only one who can save me."

Julian stared at her for a long beat. Then he shoved her away.

"Get off my course," he said. "Now."

Vivian didn't leave. She went to the parking lot and waited.

She sat on the hood of her car, watching the sun go down. The air was getting cold.

Two hours later, Julian and Silas walked out of the clubhouse.

Vivian slid off the hood. She was about to call out when a black SUV pulled up.

Conrad got out.

Vivian froze. If Conrad saw Julian rejecting her, the lie would crumble. She had to act.

She ran.

"Julian!" she squealed.

She launched herself at him. Julian, reflexes honed by years of something darker than law school, caught her before she slammed into him.

Vivian wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. "I missed you, baby!"

She pinched his side, hard. Play along, she willed him.

Conrad stopped. He looked from Vivian to Julian.

"So it is true," Conrad said, looking disgusted. "You're actually with her."

Julian looked down at Vivian. She was trembling against him. He looked up at Conrad. He saw the arrogance in Conrad's face, the way he looked at Vivian like she was property.

Julian felt a surge of irritation. Not because he cared about Vivian, but because he hated having his things-or things he was currently holding-threatened by lesser men.

He didn't push her away. He put a hand on the small of her back. It was a possessive, heavy weight.

"This is a private conversation, Conrad," Julian said coldly. "Walk away."

Conrad sneered. "Fine. Keep the damaged goods. Just don't expect to see a dime of the estate."

Conrad got in his SUV and drove off.

The second the taillights disappeared, Julian ripped Vivian's arms off his neck. He stepped back as if she were radioactive.

He looked at his shirt, then at her, his expression filled with cold disdain.

"That," Julian said, his voice ice, "was the last time you use me as a shield."

"Thank you," Vivian said, hugging herself. "He would have-"

"I don't care," Julian cut her off. "If you come near me again, Vivian, I won't call the police. I will destroy you myself. Do you understand?"

He got into Silas's car. They drove away, leaving her alone in the dark parking lot.

Vivian felt a tear slide down her cheek. She wiped it away angrily.

"Message received," she whispered.