Risking the Crown (The Crown 2)

“Like this.” I pressed my lips to her mouth and kissed her.

“You are fucking sexy and smart.” I grinned. “And I’m an asshole. Can we agree on that?”

She nodded. “Agreed.”

“Will you accept my apology even though it’s not going to be the last time I’m a bloody fool?”

“I’m afraid I’ll regret it,” she whispered.

She wasn’t wrong.

“I’m going to grab my bags. Keep the car running for me? I know how to make it up to you.” I winked.

Things seemed to have calmed down. I wanted to kick myself for jeopardizing it all. Without her, I didn’t have a chance of making it back to England with my contracts. With her, I had everything.

16

Aspen

I waited in the car while the driver turned up the radio station. I sat back on the vinyl seat and watched Lachlan turn the corner for the security gate to the Olympic village.

What was I doing? For an instant in the car I thought he had shown his true colors—the mean, doesn’t-give-a-shit, prick everyone had grown to despise. And then suddenly he softened. He kissed me tenderly. He apologized. He agreed with me.

I couldn’t figure him out. Really, I couldn’t figure myself out. Why was I still here? Why did I let him persuade me? Why did one confession turn me into putty? Why did I want him to hop back in this car and kiss me again?

I’d never met a man like Lachlan. He was irresponsible and selfish. He was a walking tornado, only the carnage was usually women’s hearts and not barn doors. I didn’t want to be one of those women. I didn’t want to leave Rio in pieces.

But I couldn’t stop the pull. I couldn’t deny the attraction. I couldn’t say no even when my mind and heart told me he was dangerous.

Because for three weeks, I could be his. For three short, glorious weeks, he wanted me. And no matter what the rationale was for protecting my heart or my spirit, I wanted that. I wanted him.

Lachlan and I walked into the hotel together. I heard the whispers and saw a few phones emerge as we passed by. But this was what we wanted. We needed him to be seen with one woman for the next three weeks.

The buzz would start today. The speculation would be out there, and that was okay. Eventually enough people would see us together. I liked how he held my hand firmly as if he was showing the world I was his.

“Which floor, love?” he asked.

“Seven,” I responded.

I don’t know why I felt so nervous. The time for nerves was last night when I stayed with him in the village. That part should be over, but it wasn’t.

As we approached the doors side by side, I retrieved the key from my bag.

“Here you go.” I handed him the key to his room.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Your room. We’re next to each other.”

He looked at me with confusion. He had one damn sexy face. It was enough to make me forget how to speak.

“Hmm,” he turned the handle. “Part of your professionalism?” He smiled.

I didn’t know whether to follow him or go in my own room. In a matter of seconds, he would discover our rooms were connected. And as soon as he twisted the knob, he would know I had already unlocked my side.

It wasn’t as if we were a real couple. We didn’t need to spend all our waking minutes together. We weren’t going to map out Rio’s tourist spots or go for a hike. We weren’t planning a day at the pool or beach. Those were the kinds of things normal vacationing couples did. There was nothing normal about our relationship.

I decided I’d try to get some work done.