“You need to trust me. Stop fighting me on everything, and for fuck’s sake, don’t sneak behind my back. Talk to me first next time.”
“Every time I try to talk to you, we end up fighting and the conversation goes nowhere.” Bridget stared at me, daring me to say otherwise. I didn’t. I was used to doing things my way, and my way was usually right. “Trust is a two-way street. You placed a secret chip in my phone—”
“It’s a good thing I did, or you’d probably be dead right now,” I growled.
She pressed her lips together, and my gaze inadvertently dropped to her mouth. Lush, pink, and capable of more sass than one would expect from a prim and proper princess. Except there was nothing prim and proper about what lay beneath her surface…or about the thoughts running through my mind.
It was the worst possible time for me to be thinking about anything remotely related to sex. She’d gotten kidnapped less than forty-eight hours ago, for Christ’s sake. But adrenaline and arousal had always gone hand in hand for me, and if I were honest, there were very few instances when she didn’t turn me on. Even when I was pissed at her, I wanted her.
My cock thickened, and my hands clenched into fists once more. I’d guarded the most beautiful women on the planet—movie stars, supermodels, heiresses, many of whom had made it clear they were more than willing to submit to my orders both inside and outside the bedroom—but I’d never taken them up on their offers. Never been tempted to.
Figured the one woman who’d rather see me burn than touch me was the one I ended up lusting after.
“You said I need to trust you. How can I do that if you don’t trust me?” Bridget slipped into her negotiation voice, which I recognized from the countless public events I’d accompanied her to.
The voice irked me beyond belief. I’d much rather her snap at me than treat me like some damn stranger she needed to get off her back.
“I propose a compromise. Take out the chip, and I’ll do what you say, when you say it, as long as it’s security-related.” Bridget’s gaze burned into mine. “I promise.”
Un-freaking-believable. She was in the wrong here, and she was negotiating with me.
And I was thinking of saying yes.
“Why should I believe you?” My breath came out in a harsh exhale, and a small shiver rolled through her body. I could see her nipples clearly through the thin black silk of her dress. Hard and pebbled, begging for my touch. Maybe it was because of the chill—the one thick walls and double-glazed windows couldn’t quite keep out—but judging by Bridget’s flushed cheeks, I wasn’t the only one aware of the charged air between us.
My nostrils flared. I was still hard as a rock, and I loathed it. Loathed her, for tempting me this way. Loathed myself, for not having more self-control when it came to her.
“I don’t break my promises, Mr. Larsen.” Bridget insisted on calling me by my last name the same way I insisted on calling her princess. It irritated us both, but neither of us would back down first. Story of our entire relationship. “Do we have a deal?”
My jaw ticked in rhythm with my pulse. One. Two. Three.
My first instinct was to say hell no. The chip was the only reason she was alive right now. But this was the closest we’d ever gotten to a truce, and while I had no problem playing the bad cop, I would much rather work with a cooperative Bridget than breathe down her neck every day.
“Fine,” I ground out. “We start with a trial period. Four months. You keep up your end of the bargain, and I back off. If you don’t, I will handcuff you to me until you can’t even piss in peace. Understand?”
Her lips thinned further, but she didn’t argue. “A four-month trial. Fine.” She hesitated, then added, “One more thing…”
Disbelief filled my veins. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Red stained her cheeks. “You can’t tell anyone what happened. Especially not the palace.”
“You’re asking me to lie.” I was required to write up every incident with a client and submit it to Christian. The last guy who hadn’t…let’s just say he regretted his decision. Big time.
“Not lie, omit,” Bridget corrected me. “Think about it. If my grandfather finds out what happened, you’ll be fired, and your reputation will be trashed.”
Appealing to my ego. Nice try, princess.
“My reputation can handle it.” I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d be happy to get rid of me.”
The red on her cheeks deepened. “You know what they say. Better the devil you know…”
“Hmm.” Aside from the occasional civil interaction, we couldn’t stand each other, my hard cock and her hard nipples notwithstanding. Lust was one thing, but if we kept this up, we’d kill each other. Not to mention, I would be breaking all sorts of rules if I kept what happened in Philadelphia secret. I should report it to Christian and let him deal with the palace. He was better at that diplomatic crap, anyway.
But the thought of walking away from Bridget and never seeing her again caused a strange twinge of discomfort. As infuriating as she was, she was one of the more interesting clients I’d had. Smarter, kinder, less spoiled and entitled.
“I don’t suppose your request has anything to do with the fact you’ll never breathe a second of free air again once the king finds out what happened.” My breath tickled her ear, and another shiver rolled through her. “Hmm, princess?”
For someone second in line to the throne, she had quite a bit of leeway in her comings and goings. But if King Edvard found out someone had kidnapped his precious granddaughter, he would have her under lock and key.
Bridget swallowed hard. “Does it matter? We want the same thing in the end. To maintain the status quo. You keep your reputation; I keep my freedom.”
Keep the status quo? Hardly.
It would be so easy to give in to the desire roaring through my veins, to wrap her hair around my fist and find out just how much heat she hid beneath that cool exterior. She wanted it as much as I did. I could hear it in her ragged breaths, see it in the way she looked at me, feel it in the slight arch of her body against mine.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one riding high on anger and adrenaline.
Think with your big head, Larsen. Not your small one.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to silently count to five. When I opened them again, they clashed with Bridget’s.
Gray storms against blue skies.
“You got yourself a deal. But if you break it or go behind my back again…” My voice lowered, dark and full of unspoken threats. “You’ll find out the hard way what happens when you bargain with the devil.”