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Me: I need to ask a big favour. If anyone asks, tell them I am in America with you.

By trying to protect my nearest and dearest, I’ve lied to them. My shoulders fall, and I slowly spin around and face the mirror. I take a long, hard look at my reflection, hating the Chelsea who stares back, because this Chelsea is a liar. Lies feel dirty, the kind of deeply ingrained dirt one can never get clean from. I make my way to the shower and turn the tap, causing the water to cascade down. I wait a couple of seconds for the temperature to heat up.

I’m about to place my phone on the vanity when it vibrates in my hand. Tyler’s name flashes on the screen from an incoming text.

Tyler: If I am going to lie for you, I want to know exactly what you have gotten yourself into.

Two seconds later my phone rings, and I answer. “Tyler…”

After a long and drawn-out conversation with Tyler, plus a lot of begging, he finally agrees. I’m under strict instructions to message him every day to let him know I am okay. I of course agree and cut the call. I have a shower and get changed into a blue summer dress—that has been laid out for me in readiness—and head downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

I’m halfway down the stairs when I hear a man clear his throat. I turn and see Lucian’s cousin, Josh, standing on the top step.

“And how are you this morning?” He closes the distance between us and stands on the stair above. Josh is tall and heavily tanned with a good physique. Unlike Lucian, his face is angular, with a five o’clock shadow covering his jaw. He has the most alluring dark brown eyes I think I have ever seen.

“I’m fine,” I say.

I’m about to continue on my way when he speaks again. “What made you agree?”

I turn and force a smile. I figure he’s asking why I agreed to be Lucian’s wife. I can do this, I just have to repeat what we told Farrah. Consistency is key.

I swallow, and swallow away my nerves. “I don’t know really.” My voice is higher-pitched than usual, but I can work with it. “It all happened so fast. I guess you could call it a whirlwind romance.”

“Cut the pretence. I know.”

My throat feels dry all of a sudden. “Lucian told you?”

“Of course. My cousin and I have no secrets. He seems to think you being engaged will help him secure the housebuilding company, and if that’s the case I’m all for this. Don’t worry, I will not tell a soul.”

“Is that Chelsea?” A sweet and chirpy voice ping-pongs off the walls. Josh spins around as his girlfriend approaches. Her blonde hair bounces off her shoulders as she hurries down the stairs to join us. She is wearing the cutest pink summer dress and a smile so warm it would melt snow.

“Natasha, darling,” Josh says and wraps an arm around her waist.

Natasha’s blue eyes sparkle with excitement as she reaches for my hand. “Would you join us for breakfast?”

I tug on my earlobe, thinking of an excuse. “I, er, I don’t really eat breakfast, and I really must—”

“Of course she will,” Josh interjects.

“Excellent,” Natasha says, not giving me a second to get away. Her eyes glimmer as she quickly links her arm through mine. “It’s right this way.”

I glance at Josh, who in turn glances at me, a knowing look in his eyes.

How am I going to get through breakfast?

Lucian

Two hours earlier

The conversation with Chelsea keeps me awake long into the early hours. I can’t sleep, so instead watch her toss and turn. She fights with the quilt to get comfortable and often pushes it all the way down as if she is too warm, only to pull it back up to her neck seconds later and wrap it around her like a cocoon. It’s in the briefest moments I notice how her nightgown hugs the swell of her breasts and can’t help wondering what lies beneath.

I shift awkwardly, my hand covering the bulge in my boxers. Slowly I rub my shaft up and down, needing some kind of relief, if only for a moment.

“What time is it?” Chelsea mumbles. I remove my hand from my erection and notice her reaching for something on the nightstand. I know what that something is right away. Her phone.

I side-eye the digital clock. “It’s six am.”

Chelsea nods before sinking her head into the duck feather pillow and drifting back off to sleep. I have no such luck in the getting-back-to-sleep department. I’m highly aroused and wound so tightly I feel I’m about to explode. I slide out of bed. Already dressed in my trousers I wore last night, I pull on a T-shirt and make my way down to the servants’ quarters.

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