Page 36

It was madness.

My PR team released the statement this morning stating that I have a son from a previous relationship, that I will not discuss his mother at this time as it’s a private matter, that I am working with all governmental authorities as required, but that I love my son and he's my number one priority, and that I request privacy for us and for my relationship with Keegan Fritz.

It's all out there. Well, what we’re willing for them to know and think.

I can only imagine what Keegan’s family thinks of all this and me. It’s impossible not to have massive doubts that we’ll be able to pull this off.

I didn’t answer a thing, but when I arrived at the airport, I was led to a private terminal and then a private terminal after that. The Fritz terminal is how it was described to me. They have their own here. There were two security checkpoints that got us into that terminal, and there was the Fritz airplane. A massive one at that. Something that appeared as though it could house the entire Fritz clan.

The back door to the large SUV opens, and the most stern, formidable elderly man I’ve ever met immediately greets me. He also has an English accent that should put me right at home, but doesn’t.

“Mr. Powell, I’m Morgan Fairchild, the Fritz family’s former chief of security. Miss Keegan rang me last night to ask that I see to this personally so there are no safety concerns for any of you.”

Bloody fuck, what is this?

“Erm, wow, thank you.” I climb out and unclasp Fen from the base of his car seat without taking him out of his carrier. “Has Keegan already arrived?”

“Yes, sir. She’s on the plane.” He walks with me, but I notice he nods to three men who I hadn’t originally seen behind us. “We’re going to have you stop in Kansas City, followed by Dallas before you make the direct flight to Key West. Once the plane arrives there, you will be escorted to a boat that will lead you directly to the Key. I’ve spoken with the housekeepers who tend to that property, and everything has been arranged for you, including items your son will require.”

I blink at him and find myself stopping dead on a tarmac with the large jet looming in front of us.

“What does that mean?”

“It means everything from food to clothing to nappies to anything you hadn’t even considered will be waiting at the cottage.”

“And Keegan arranged all of this?”

“She did, sir.”

“Fuck.” I shake my head. I had plans to buy most of that stuff when we were down in Florida, but she beat me to it. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to curse like that. I’m just overwhelmed, and she’s amazing. What part of England are you from?”

“Manchester, sir.” He pauses. “You should understand that I am eternally a willing servant of the Fritz family, and with that, you may be my countryman, but I make James Bond look like a movie star with a stunt double.”

“Um.”

“Do not get my girl hurt.”

“I won’t, sir. I promise.”

“Then we’re fine. I will be flying with you until Kansas City in the cockpit. Safe travels, Mr. Powell.”

He walks off, and I’m left here wondering what the actual fuck was that?

I decide not to overthink it. She is a Fritz, and I have no doubt he does make James Bond look like, well, me, I suppose. He’s thereal deal is what he’s saying, whereas I work out in a gym and train with stunt people and gurus. He more than likely actually trained with the British Army and MI6 and is not to be fucked with.

Or more than that, don’t fuck with Keegan.

Don’t look at her too much. Don’t touch her. Don’t think about her. Don’t fantasize about her—again—too much. And no matter what, under no circumstances can I fuck her.

I won’t. I promised her that, and I held back when she came to LA. This will be no different. While Keegan is incredible and beautiful and sexy and smart and has a heart bigger than I knew a human could have, my code doesn’t change. She deserves better than that. Better than me. I’m not sure I know how to love properly, and I have no plans to fall in love with her.

Not ever.

Not when love can be given and taken so swiftly.

Not when I have a son and a career to not only protect but put first.

Yet the moment I climb onto the waiting jet with Fen in his carrier and find Keegan in the back, her face cast down toward her phone and her red hair up in a messy ponytail that looks like she did it with one hand, something inside of me flinches. It quite possibly threatens to challenge my hardline stance because, at this moment, with her hair looking this way, and how it brings an unwitting smile to my lips, I realize I like her.