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But now? Not only does she want me to ignore the fact that it’s just the two of us here, but also pretend she’s going to be my wife. At least, I assume that’s what she was implying with her brief explanation of what happened back in that bridal shop.
The idea is honestly like a stab to my chest. Of course,shedoesn’t realize that. It’s not like she thinks of me the way I think of her. She’s royalty, for goodness’ sake. So far above my station in every way that she’d never even consider me—even if her fatherwouldgive consent. Which he won’t, thanks to my father’s reputation.
“You most definitely are.” Her back to the sea, Chloe cocks her head. “Look, I know this seems … unusual. And I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But, Topher said we have to keep a low profile here. That’s why pretending like this isourwedding we’re planning is perfect. Then there’s no risk of exposing the real bride and groom to the paparazzi or any other curious intruders.” Her blonde hair reflects the sun’s rays and flows down her back as she lifts her chin, and gone is all the self-doubt. She doesn’t even realize how regal she just naturally is, even in jeans and a blue sleeveless top that matches her eyes. How beautiful.
And she definitely doesn’t realize how much I want to step forward, lean in, and kiss the perfect ridges of her smooth, tanned shoulders—
Easy, mate.
But it’s no use. My mind is rebelling, spinning out of control, wanting to accept Chloe’s idea of a fake engagement for selfish reasons, so that I finally, at long last, have an excuse to touch her whenever I want, to hold her the way I’ve always craved.
And see? This is exactly why it’s a rubbish idea.
But once Chloe Huntington gets a notion in her head, it’s nearly impossible to get it out. After all, this is the same woman who, at age seventeen and despite the protest of all of her father’s advisors—my father included—invited one of the country’s poorest tenements to the annual Christmas ball, supplying the women with gowns from her very closet.
Very pig-headed, this one. Charitable too. And completely lovely in every way.
Still, I have toconvinceher that it’s rubbish … but how? I can’t very well explain that I have a difficult enough time burying my love just being near her. That holding her hand, pretending to be engaged to her, would send me over a flippin’ cliff.
Blowing out a breath, I run a hand through my hair, though there’s not much on top thanks to the close-cropped cut I’ve kept since my armed forces days. “Chloe …”
She bites that full, beautiful lower lip yet again. “Frederick, I want this day to be perfect for my brother and future sister-in-law. I’ve seen this wedding planning taking a toll on them both. Flutterbum doesn’t listen to a thing Lauren really wants, butIknow what she would like because I know her. And that means I could help give them the best day of their lives. Why wouldn’t you help me do that?”
I’ve been around countless dignitaries and politicians, and Chloe is even better at getting what she wants than they are. Some might find it manipulative, but I know she’s not seeking this for her own benefit. She’s just speaking from the heart, and her passion and love for others shines through. She’s fully Chloe, fully authentic, and I love every fiber of her for it.
Frankly, she inspires me to be better.
Still. “I don’t know.” I huff and frown at the ocean, which darts toward the sand then recedes like a dance. “I’m here to protect you. That’s my main priority. How am I supposed to do that if I’m playing the part of adoring fiancé instead?”
She gives a little hop and a grin. “That’s the best part of this plan. Even though I still maintain that I don’t need a bodyguard, don’t you think you can protect me even better if you have a reason to be near me every waking moment? Nobody will suspect you’re an agent, so if I’m actually ever in danger—and let’s face it, I never am—they won’t see you coming.”
The woman should have been a barrister. I stroke my chin, find several spots I missed shaving this morning—well, yesterday morning, really. After hopping a red-eye when Topher gave me my new assignment, I arrived in Los Angeles at three a.m. and slept in the airport until the car rental desk opened at six. Then, after slamming three cups of coffee, I drove the four hours north along Highway 1 to Hallmark Beach.
I’ve never taken a more beautiful drive—all cliffsides and crashing waves below—but I couldn’t fully enjoy it because I only had one thought. To get to Chloe, who had been without a protective detail for nearly two days.
Should have known she wouldn’t even want a bodyguard in the first place, though. Perhaps that’s part of the reason she’s come up with this scheme—to feel somewhat normal. It can’t be easy having someone follow you everywhere you go. And she’s right. The royal Kentonian family isn’t all that well known here in America. It’s a small country, after all.
Still, risks do exist, and I’m not willing to expose her to them, even if it wasn’t my job.
I sigh.
She steps closer, placing a hand on my forearm and looking up at me with those blue eyes that match the waves just beyond. “Please, Freddy?” Her whisper fills the space between us, and for a moment, I forget what she’s even asking me.
Please? Yes, of course, I’d do anything for you.
And honestly? I would. Even rip my own heart from my chest and feed it to the wood chipper—which is essentially what I’m doing in agreeing to this plan. “All right.”
She squeals and throws herself at me again, this time without abandon. My body envelops her petite frame and I’m a man lost, but before I can garner too much pleasure from holding her, she pulls away and casts her eyes to the sand. “Sorry. I got a bit carried away there. I’m just really grateful.”
Doesn’t she know she need not apologize? But yes, it would be better for us both if she kept our physical touch to a minimum.
How likely isthatwhen you’ll be going around town pretending to be engaged?my brain taunts.You’re going to have to, at a minimum, hold her hand.
I silence my doubts and force a smile. “No problem, Princess.”
“I told you not to call me that here.” Her finger prods my stomach, but then she stops. “Although I guess it could be like a cute little pet name, right?”
It’s how I’ve always meant it, but of course I can’t tell her that. “Sure.”
