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Chapter Twenty-Four

PAYTON

Lily is driving me mad. Ever since she picked me up from practice today, the woman seems intent on tempting me in every possible way. I haven’t the foggiest idea what changed between this morning and now, and I’m not complaining.

Instead of retreating to her room to ‘write reports,’ she’s helping me make dinner. She might think I don’t notice how she’s intentionally brushing her arm against mine as she preps a salad, but I’m fully aware of her every touch.

Like now, she leans over me to run her fingers under the faucet, giving me full opportunity to inhale her musky floral scent—that’s new. She’s also wearing her hair down, which only adds to her allure. I want nothing more than to wipe the counter clean, lift her up onto it, and kiss her senseless.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to splash you.”

Maybe she should splash me some more so I can cool down.

But no, she brushes several water drops off my bicep, not with a towel but with an intentional caress of her hand, igniting fireworks in my head.

She’s so incredibly distracting that I have to drag my focus back to what I’m doing or risk cutting myself.

“No worries.” I finish chopping the mushrooms for the cottage pie I’m preparing. Figured she might enjoy a little taste of home. Del may have mentioned it was one of Lily’s favorites when I asked for ideas.

“When are you going to tell me what you’re making?” Her facial expression is unusually open and curious.

“It’s a surprise, luv.” I cringe. “Sorry. I know you don’t like it when I call you that.”

She turns toward me, pressing a hand against my chest. The T-shirt I’m wearing does nothing to diminish the heat radiating from her palm. “What if I said I do like it?”

Is she…flirting with me? I search her face for some hint of what’s going on in that pretty little head of hers. “I’d ask what changed your mind. Luv.”

“I don’t know. Just did.” With a coy smile, she slides her hand down the front of my chest before walking away.

Takes everything in me not to grab her wrist, yank her back, and make my earlier fantasy a reality. “Lily?”

“Yes, Payton?” Now she’s setting the table.

I want to ask her if she’s okay, but that seems counterproductive. “How did your meeting with Sophie and Mia go?”

She pauses in thought. “It was very informational.”

Did she just giggle?

I almost dump the mushrooms on the floor, but make a last-minute save and add them to the skillet to sauté. “Everything’s on track for the fundraiser?”

Returning to the kitchen, she stands near me by the stove. “The kids are going to love it.”

Normally, she grumbles about her meetings, citing how she’s supposed to be guarding me, not planning an event. “Sounds like you enjoyed yourself.”

“I really did.” She says this almost absentmindedly as she brushes her fingers through the side of my hair. “You need a haircut, by the way.”

“Not until the season ends,” I mumble, lost to her touch. Like I said, she’s driving me bonkers .

Her hand stills. “Why?”

“Tradition. Superstition. Whatever you want to call it. We don’t cut our hair or shave until the end of the season.”

In a light caress that sends an ache through me, she runs her fingers from my hair down my cheek. “You’re still shaving.”

“I wait a little longer to stop than the other lads.”

She trails her fingers down my neck toward my collarbone. I grab her hand and give her a pointed look, ready to demand she tell me what she’s up to, but the open desire and affection in her eyes take my breath away. Instead, I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss the center of her palm.

A soft gasp escapes her lips, which she licks as she visibly tries to compose herself. “Is there anything else I can help with?”

I don a heated stare and make my voice gruff. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll let you know.”

A deep blush blooms up from her neck and covers her cheeks. Something flashes in her eyes. Something edgy and challenging. Something I recognize…

And I nearly gasp myself with the realization.

She’s playing a game with me.

I don’t know what undoes me more. That she’s trying to unravel me at every turn, or the bigger question of why is she purposely driving me wild?

When she excuses herself to use the loo, I grab my phone to text Del.

Payton: Lily’s acting a bit off. Did something happen today?

Three dots appear and go away several times. I’m about to toss my phone into the skillet when her reply finally comes through.

Del: She’d have my head if she finds out I told you.

Payton: Just spill the beans, woman!

Del: Don’t get your knickers in a twist.

Payton: Stop faffing about.

Del: She knows everything.

Payton: Everything?

Del: EVERYTHING

I smack my phone down.

Lily knows everything?

Head swimming, I lean on my hands against the counter as I make sense of the situation. This means she knows how I feel about her, knows about my silly antics to woo her heart, likely knows I used the word ‘woo’ if Del showed her my signs, and she knows my cousin was rescued and crisis averted.

To say I was relieved when Del told me he was alive and well, or soon would be after his recovery, was an utter relief. That and knowing my sister could resume her practice lifted the guilty weight I’d carried ever since returning from England.

I did think at one point that I’d have to persuade her I needed my bodyguard a little longer, but Del took care of that brilliantly.

Splendid woman, that. Someone needs to give her a medal.

Or knighthood, if I could convince the Queen.

Or better yet, Lily and I could name our firstborn after her as a way of saying thank you, providing I can convince Lily to give me a chance.

I grab my phone again.

Payton: Under no circumstances are you to tell her I know. Got it?

Del: You’re asking me to keep something from my partner.

Payton: Might I remind you that you agreed to help me in the first place, and therefore, you’re complicit already?

Del: Honestly, the things one does for love.

Payton: Cheers.

Del: Go on then, hotshot.

The moment I hear the loo door, I grab the spoon and crack on with cooking. “Dinner won’t be long.”

She saunters toward me, wearing a white sundress I’ve never seen her in before. “Now, will you tell me what you’re making?”

I do a double-take. Did she change clothes? “An English comfort food. Cottage pie.”

An open smile flashes on her face, giving me a quick picture of what she’s like when she’s relaxed and in the moment. “That’s one of my favorites.”

The sparkle in her eyes captivates me all over again, and I almost say I know but catch myself. “Mine, too.”

After a long appraisal of her in that dress, I transfer the sautéed meat and mushrooms into a baking dish. The little minx upped her game, which means I will have to do the same.

She leans over, inhales the aromas, and sighs. “Wow, that smells amazing already.” She blurts out a laugh when her stomach growls. “Guess I’m really famished.”

Something tells me she’s hungry for more than my cottage pie.

I never imagined a dinner could be so stimulating and yet knackering, but this competition with Lily is taking everything I have to keep up with her. She’s absolutely stunning, countering my every move with one of her own as if we’re playing a game of chess. And she’s bloody good at it.

When we finished our meal, she stood up to clear the table, and I swear she bent over intentionally, giving me a glimpse of creamy, smooth skin above her lacy bra. As the gentleman I am, I lifted my eyes immediately, but it wasn’t easy.

Now it’s my move, my turn to get even. I’m handing her dishes to load into the dishwasher, one of which is a rather large spoon and the sudden source of my inspiration. I angle the bowl of it under the faucet, resulting in a steam of water saturating the front of my shirt.

“Bloody hell, I’ve made a mess.” I turn the water off and take my shirt off, giving her a little taste of her own medicine.

At first, her gaze skims over me in the most satisfying way. “Here, let me help.” She takes the T-shirt from me and starts drying me off, the challenging gleam back in her eyes.

My brain implodes, making me unable to think—only act.

I grab her hips and lift her onto the counter on the other side of the sink and crash my lips against hers.

Her hands weave into my hair as she parts her lips, giving me permission to explore deeper.

Our kiss is frantic, no doubt due to how we’ve been teasing each other all evening.

I’m so lost in her touch and the way she feels I let out a groan, which seems to spur her on.

Until she breaks the kiss and leans away. “Payton, what are we doing?”

Despite being shirtless—and breathless, I might add—the normally comfortable temperature of my apartment feels more like a sauna, and the last thing I want to do at this minute is have a discussion.

However, I can’t help but wonder if she’s still playing a game, or is that genuine concern flitting across her face?

I want to kiss her again, but not at the risk of scaring her off.

“I don’t know, luv. But say the word, and we’ll stop.”

Her soft hands cup my face as her desire-filled eyes explore mine. I’m fascinated by the flecks of gold and green speckling her hazel irises, and I don’t wish to stop looking into their depths. But there’s no missing the indecision sitting there…the doubt.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt this deeply about anyone, and I don’t intend to take what’s developing between us lightly. That’s not how I roll.

First, covering her hands with mine, I turn my face to kiss the inside of each of her wrists, then step back. “Why don’t we call it a night?”

Her eyes widen subtly, making me realize how that sounded.

“That’s not what I meant.” I think about tugging her against me for a simple embrace to reassure her, but then remember I’m shirtless and have little strength to resist this beauty.

“As much as I’d love that,” I give her a pointed look so she’ll have no doubt how utterly desirable she is, “I don’t believe we should rush into anything.”

“Payton, I know?—”

I rest a finger against her kissable lips, aching to taste them again. But I’m not ready to let our little ruse go. Not yet. Not until I figure out exactly where this game ends and reality begins for her.

“Let’s call it a night, luv. The fundraiser is tomorrow, and I dare say we’ll have lots to discuss as well.” Grasping her hips, I lift her off the counter while she holds onto my shoulders.

Following her toward her bedroom makes my longing for her increase.

And I don’t just mean physically. I want a future with this feisty woman who’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.

As a royal and a hockey player, I’ve encountered my fair share of women, but I’ve never been one to chat them up because, to be frank, I found most of them boring.

But Lily’s different. I reckon I could spend a lifetime peeling back the layers and still never get to the bottom of what makes her so bloody special. She’s my ultimate adventure.

At her door, she spins around, her dress swirling about her shapely legs, and lifts herself up to kiss me on the cheek. “Good night, Payton.”

Her heady scent and warmth set my pulse racing again, and as she steps back, our gazes linger, giving me hope that this little game of hers could be very real.

Because this has been anything but a game for me since day one.