Page 68 of Handle Me

Her lips lifted in a smile, but she didn’t turn toward me. “I thought you hated it here.”

“It’s growing on me.”

This time she froze and slowly swiveled in my direction. “It is?”

London. Her. Yeah, I could handle that. Dealing with a media circus and living in a palace with a bodyguard? Not so much. Brex was an okay guy. He’d managed to get us from Lola’s house back to my apartment at Kensington Palace without anyone snapping a single photo. Thanks to him, the paparazzi hadn’t managed to get a clear shot of us together.

Yet.

We had holed up at my temporary flat for days, enjoying what was probably a very short reprieve from media attention. But right now, in the relative calm before the storm, I liked London. I liked the food, the energy, the noise. But I liked it most of all because Lola Bishop was standing in my loo in nothing but a pair of lacy red knickers.

I took a step forward. “What are you doing?”

“My makeup.” She frowned at herself in the mirror.

“I know that much, but why? Do you have plans I don’t know about?”

She sighed and dropped her mascara back into the case. “I’m going out.”

“Going out where?” I asked. “I thought we were staying here naked for as long as possible.”

“Tempting.” She grinned, biting her lip in a way that gave me ideas. “I’m going to visit my sister. She’s back at Buckingham with the baby.” She hesitated. The smile fell from her face, and instantly, I wanted to put it back in place. Lola was gorgeous every moment of the day, but when she smiled, it took my breath away.

“Should I come with you?”

“I don’t think so,” she hedged.

I lifted an eyebrow. We hadn’t known each other that long, but I could already read her. Mostly because she didn’t bother to hide from me. “Something wrong?”

She took a deep breath. “I’m going to tell her about us—if she doesn’t already know.”

She fell silent and watched me, waiting for a reaction. To be honest, I waited for one, too. Finally, I shrugged. “She’s had a lot on her plate, but I get it if you want her to hear from you.”

“You’re okay with confirming it?” she blurted out, looking more ruffled than I’d ever seen her.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I stalked toward her, the bathroom tile cold on my bare feet. I’d thrown on jeans to grab a takeaway order from Brex. As far as I was concerned, food was the only necessity worth leaving bed for if she was around.

“Because it’s going to sound like we’re in a relationship,” she said, aiming those piercing blue eyes at me.

I caught her around the waist and hauled her against me. “And that’s a problem how?”

“It’s not...exactly.” Her breathy voice sent blood flooding to my groin. When she lowered her lashes, I nearly came undone. “This was supposed to be about sex and nothing more, remember?”

“Lola.” I pressed my index finger under her chin and lifted it. “I think it’s time to officially lose the rules.”

“Even rule number 5?” She blushed.

Fuck me. The color staining her cheeks made me think of other places I wanted to turn that pretty shade of pink. “We can keep 5 if you want.”

“If I want?” she repeated. I didn’t miss the amusement in her voice.

“Yeah.” I slanted my head over hers. “It’s okay to admit you like that one, boss.”

“We can keep that one,” she said, popping onto her tiptoes and brushing a kiss over my lips. “I should get dressed.”

“You should,” I agreed, even as I lowered to trail kisses down her neck.

“Anders.” Her voice was light, but her eyes were serious when I lifted my head to meet them. “I like my life. I like my job. I like London. But I like you, too. Maybe a bit more than I expected. And I’m not sure what that means.”