by Riley Love
When I emerged from hanging up my dress for the wedding, Grayson was in the kitchen pouring tea. “Care for a cup? Game’s over. I’m heading out to sit on the terrace.”
“In this weather?”
“I have a heater.”
“All right. Pour away.”
A few minutes later, we settled outside at a small table for two on the terrace overlooking the River Thames with steaming cups of tea. He had a book from his office shelf, an image of a knife in a blood puddle on the cover.
The man still hadn’t pulled on a shirt, and his absolutely delectable abs taunted me.
“Do you read out here every night?”
“Most nights. The view is serene, and it isn’t a bad way to spend the end of a day.”
I opened a reading app on my phone and did the same, warmed by the electric heater beside our table. Grayson voluntarily refilled my cup twice with this fragrant, sweet, and floral tea that tasted like jasmine and sin because I could have guzzled down an entire pot of it myself and probably had by the time the sun went down and London came alive under the canvas of night.
He was right. The River Thames was lovely after dark, the city all aglow with light glittering off the water. I raised my phone to take a photograph, hesitated, and then lowered it again.
Grayson glanced at me. “What was that about?”
“I forgot about the NDA. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to take photographs for my social media account and friends.”
“Go ahead.” His brows knit, wrinkling a second before the full grin returned. “Let’s call this an internship and remark about the lovely view from the job.”
“All right.”
I took my photo and reveled in the immediate comments from former classmates.
Lucky bitch.
You’re in London?
OMG, I hate you!
I am sooooo jelly. How did you get to be so lucky?
I glanced at the smoking hot Brit sitting across from me. They didn’t know the half of it.
I’d never slept so well or woken up to such an amazing view. Whether because they were set to a timer or activated by motion, the blinds on the windows drew open the moment I sat up in bed. Sunlight sparkled off the Thames down below in a thousand shimmers.
This was it. The big day. Nerves made my stomach flutter with anticipation and nausea all at once. Would I be able to pull it off? Fool his family into believing I was his actual lover?
I hoped so.
With my stomach rumbling, I made my way from the bedroom toward the kitchen. The tantalizing aroma of bacon and fresh-brewed coffee drew me forward like a siren’s song. I was so focused on my hunger that it took a moment for my brain to recognize the sound of two voices ahead—Grayson’s and a woman.
“Ah, good, you’re awake.” Grayson rose from the table, leaving his female guest, and crossed toward me.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.”
“This is Anna. She’s here to prepare you for the wedding.”
The tall brunette stood and joined us. She towered above me in her stiletto heels and her makeup was absolutely flawless, if a touch on the heavy side. “Hmm. Pretty skin and nice hair. Yes, I think I can work with this,” Anna said, “but we need to start now. Come.”
My groggy mind struggled to keep up. “Okay, what?”
“You. Shower,” Anna directed. She put her hands on my shoulders and nudged me back the way I’d come.
“I haven’t even eaten.”
“I will have a light snack waiting for you. Shower. I brought things to use.”
Grayson said nothing, but his amused grin said it all before Anna pushed me around the corner. He looked to be enjoying this way too much.
Under Anna’s direction, I scrubbed, washed, shaved, and primped, donning a fluffy bathrobe afterward. She presented me with a croissant and fried eggs, though it was impossible to enjoy either while she tugged and pulled at my damp hair. She even gave me a brief course on etiquette and decorum. When to speak and when to be silent. Sit with knees together, ankles crossed.
“There, now you look presentable,” Anna declared hours later. She stood me in front of a full-length mirror and stood back with a pleased look on her face.
I barely recognized myself. The peach-colored peplum dress hugged my body in all the right places, and Anna had used the same color in my makeup. She’d drawn a perfect cat eye in black liner, a skill I’d never managed to master. My hair was pulled up in a smooth twist with a few curls trailing down in an artful array beneath the small hat pinned atop my head. I’d thought I would look ridiculous, but as I studied my reflection, I liked the woman looking back at me.
I’d be every bit the prim and proper British lady. Until I opened my mouth and shattered the illusion with my American accent.
“Grayson will be pleased.”
“Thank you, Anna. I appreciate all your help.”
She smiled, her cheeks both dimpling. “Francois told me it would be a challenge, but I think the efforts were successful.”
“Francois?”
“Grayson’s friend. You’ll meet him today, I’m sure. Speaking of which, time to go. We wouldn’t want you to be late.” She opened the bedroom door and gestured me through first.
Grayson waited for us in the living room, and the moment my gaze fell on him, I had the insane urge to cross over and rip his clothes off.
He looked amazing—panty-melting amazing—in his black suit and cobalt silk tie. I’d drooled over celebrities before, but it was a completely different experience seeing a man up close and in person in a tailored suit.
His gaze raked over me from head to toe, lingering long enough at my breasts to make my insides tighten and my pulse leap. “Excellent work, Anna. Thank you.”
“You two have a lovely time,” Anna said before letting herself out.
I barely noticed, pinned beneath Grayson’s continued study. He made the first step, bridging the space between us, and skimmed his fingers down my bare arms. My skin prickled beneath his touch.
“Right, a few ground rules before we leave. Well, only one, really.”
“What’s that?”
“If the queen happens to make an appearance, no touching.”
I stared at him, certain this had to be some sort of joke, a prank to play on the poor American. “The queen? As in the Queen of England?”
“She probably won’t show up, but it was worth mentioning.”
“Why would there even be the possibility?”
“Ah, yes, about that. We’re related. Distantly.”
“Okay. You didn’t think to tell me earlier that you’re related to the damned royal family? Really?”
“It never came up. As I said, it’s a distant relation, and we’re not close to that branch of the family. I’m only, at last check, sixty- or seventy-fourth in line for the throne. Hardly worth notice.” He smoothed my hair back behind my ears and looked me over one last time.
“Do I look okay?”
“You look perfect.” He offered his arm and smiled. “Ready?”
The way I saw it, this was my last chance to back out. My heart pounded, fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Part of me wanted to run before I got myself in over my head, but one look up at Grayson’s face, at his patient smile and calm eyes, took the fear away. He’d be right there beside me, and that made all the difference.
I slipped my arm through his and released my held breath. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Initially, no one paid me much mind at the wedding, beyond polite introductions. The entire affair was different than the weddings I’d attended back home. Everything was quiet and traditional—proper, and even a little bit dull because of proprieties and reputation, I suppose. Even the banquet afterward looked little like an American celebration. The last wedding I’d attended back in the States served catered Chinese food and fried chicken.
“We’d been wondering when Grayson would finally show you off, dear,” the older woman sea
ted to my left said.
“I told you, Aunt Sophie, our schedules had several conflicts,” Grayson replied for me.
“Well, it’s good to have you here.” Aunt Sophie patted my hand. “Good to see him smiling again and not at work for a change.”
“He’s a busy man,” I said, having absolutely no idea whether or not it was true.
Sophie scoffed and turned back to her fruitcake.
I savored the last bites of mine, enjoying the brandy-soaked nuts and candied fruit from my slice of the traditional British wedding cake.
“If you’re done with that, I’d like to take you over to meet a few people,” Grayson said.
“I couldn’t eat another bite.”
He offered his hand to help me up, and I couldn’t help but notice his aunt scope out my left hand. If she was hoping to see her nephew marry off, she’d be in for a long wait.
Grayson led me to a group gathered across the room, a younger crowd than our stuffy, older tablemates. Whoever had made the seating arrangement must have hated my date.
“Kelly, allow me to introduce Francois Egerton, my friend and business partner. And you already know Cate.”
Cate hugged me, but Francois looked me up and down. Something about his knowing smile made me uneasy. “A pleasure to meet you, Kelly. We’ve all heard so much, but our Grayson has been a selfish sod, keeping you to himself. Tell me, how’s your first trip to London?”
“It’s lovely so far.”
“Excellent. Will you be staying long?”
I glanced over to Grayson then back to his friend. “A few days. I’m due to fly back on Wednesday.”
“What? No, no, no, we can’t possibly have that. Grayson, don’t tell me you aren’t bringing her to the show next week.”
“What show?”
“Fashion week,” Cate replied. “Everyone will be there, and Grayson never misses it. I can’t believe he didn’t mention it to you.”
“Do say you’ll be joining him,” Francois said. “Grayson, you absolutely cannot leave this enchanting creature behind.”
“We’ll discuss it.”
Cate exchanged glances with Francois. Her smile turned mischievous, green eyes sparkling. “Nonsense. You’ll have to bring her. After all, Kelly was busy last year, wasn’t she? Have you any plans this time, dear?”
“No, but—”
“Perfect,” Francois said. “We’ll see you then.”
Chapter Eight
Kelly
By the end of the reception, I wanted to scrub off my makeup and crawl into a deep, dark hole to sleep a thousand years, far away from anyone hoping to make nice with Grayson’s girlfriend.
I’d gotten off lucky at first, but once introductions spread news of my identity among the Lancaster clan, no one left me alone. Everyone wanted to see the mysterious, elusive Kelly who had taken Grayson away from London so frequently.
They were so polite, so damned nosy at the same time.
I sagged into the rear car seat and closed my eyes.
His hand ghosted over my knee, touch scorching through the nude nylon stocking. It had the same effect as a dose of adrenaline, jolting me awake and shocking away my exhaustion.
“Stressful, aren’t they?”
“No wonder you have to lie about having a girlfriend. I don’t want to imagine what that would have been like for you if you were alone without me to divert all the attention off your status as a single man.”
Chuckling, Grayson touched a button on the console, and the glass panel between us and Harry turned opaque, casting our milky reflections back at us.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking a little privacy.” He twisted around in his seat to face me. “You were lovely today. Thank you for tolerating my family and friends.”
“Don’t thank me. You’re the one who bought the clothes.”
“It was more than just the dress,” he said while tracing patterns over my thigh. My pulse jumped. “You were quite charming. Before we left, my mother asked me to bring you ’round for tea.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“That we’d see if our busy schedule allowed for it. I didn’t want to presume to put you on the spot with my family alone.” His thumb brushed back and forth across my thigh, skimming the hem of my dress. A tantalizing tease.
“That’s probably a good thing. I, uh… I don’t know anything about you to tell them. I’m not even sure what to tell them about myself.”
“Exactly so. I suppose we’ll have to work out a story then. Telling them your knees are ticklish isn’t exactly a proper conversation.” To demonstrate his point, he slid his palm down my stockinged leg and let his fingertips skim that exact spot. My leg quivered, and warm heat pooled between my thighs.
Of all the things we did that night, how did he remember ticklish knees?
“What are you doing?”
“Absolutely nothing.” He leaned back with that smug grin on his face. “Unless, of course, you want me to continue.”
My gaze darted to the divider then to the tinted windows. He couldn't be serious.
“So what’s the plan for the next few days?” I asked instead. “You only needed me for a wedding date, and that’s over now.”
“I’d be happy to show you around London to make this worth the time of your visit. And since Francois brought it up, how about staying an extra week for the fashion show? It seems like I will need a date again.”
“You mean you’re hiring me again.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know, Grayson.” Five million dollars in the bank told me to cut my losses and escape before I fell crashing head-over-heels in love with a man who was so far out of my league he may as well have been on another planet. “I need to get home. My family thinks I’m attending a work seminar for a new job.”
“Tell them the truth.”
“Excuse me?”
“Tell them you’ve been hired on by an international agency.”
“Doing what?”
Grayson shrugged. “If they didn’t already see the Facebook post you made to your friends, use that story. You’re interning as the personal assistant of a wealthy foreign businessman and were forced to sign a strict non-disclosure agreement requiring absolute secrecy regarding your activities.”
“That’s Cate’s job.”
“They wouldn’t know that, and technically, part of it is true. You have signed an NDA through the service, and I’ve decided to… contract your employment on a long-term basis. You’ll accompany me to several functions while rescuing me from the female vultures of London.”
“I suppose that would work. It’s not really a complete lie.”
“Precisely. So, are we in agreement? I’ll contact Diamond Dust tonight to sketch out a contract for the upcoming dates requiring your companionship.”
“Um. We’re forgetting one thing here.”
“Which is?”
“What if you meet someone between now and our final date?”
He pursed his lips and studied me. “Should such an occurrence happen, then you’ll be adequately compensated per their rules but no longer obligated to attend the dates in question. We’ll part ways, and you’ll return to your family a rich woman.”
“All right then, you have a deal.”
“Shall we seal it with a kiss?” He leaned in again, treating me to the masculine scent of brandy and cologne.
One kiss couldn’t possibly hurt anything.
Grayson cupped my cheek, sliding his fingers into my hair, and drew me close as he leaned down and claimed my lips. What started as light and teasing quickly turned deep and demanding. It was as good as I remembered. Better. His lips traveled to my ear, traced the shell, then teased and nibbled my ear lobe. My bra felt tight and restrictive, the nipples beneath too tight under the light padding.
God.
“You taste as good as I remember.”
We shifted, Grayson laying me back against the leather seat. He slid his
hand under my skirt, nudging the snug fabric upward. Maybe I should have stopped him, told him this was a bad idea, but Lord help me, I didn’t want to.
“You’re wet.” His thumb pressed against my damp panties. “Did you miss me?”
“M-maybe.”
His soft chuckle tickled against my throat. He wriggled his thumb beneath the silk and reached bare skin. My breath quickened.
“Your driver…”
“Don’t worry about Harry. He doesn’t care.”
But I cared. I didn’t want his chauffeur listening in on our sex. I wanted privacy and—
Grayson’s thumb flicked my clit, evaporating the final shreds of my modesty. Writhing, I raised my hips as he hiked up my skirt.
Seconds ago, I was clinging tenaciously to masquerading as the prime example of a classy American woman. Now I was a desperate sex kitten reduced to riding his fingers in the backseat of a car while his chauffeur navigated busy London traffic.
Thrusting against him, hot, aching, and wet, needing his cock like I’d never thought possible now that I knew the feel of it inside me. At that moment, nothing mattered more than having him again.
He leaned down, breath feathered against my inner thigh. He tugged my panties to the side and teased my pussy, thrusting his tongue between my sensitive lips. He ran a slick line up and down, pausing to circle at the top and devote the attention I needed to my tender clit. I cried out at once, thighs trembling.
I didn’t have a hope of resisting him. The job didn’t outline sex, and legally couldn’t, but fuck if that mattered because all I wanted was to have every inch of him inside of me.
His fingers dipped inside my pussy, stroking inside me expertly, sliding in and out. I tasted myself on his tongue when he returned to my mouth. “Tell me you want me.”
“I do.”
“I’m not convinced.”
His lips began doing amazing things to my throat, moving over my pulse point, nibbling down to my collarbone.