Page 32 of Pucking the Team

“London, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“I travel a lot.”

“Ah, I see.”

We stepped toward the hotel, past several pointed topiary bushes and a parked red Mercedes sportscar. A single lamppost shone amber onto the dark shrubs.

“So why do you travel? Work?” she asked.

“Pippa! Wait.”

I froze. My heart skipped a beat and then struggled to find the next one. That was a voice I recognized only too well. Damn it, I’d recognized the car, too!

Spinning around, I saw Steven striding toward me in tight jeans and an even tighter black Armani t-shirt.

What the hell?

I swallowed, and my stomach clenched.

“Pippa,” he called again, gaining on me.

“What…what are you doing here?” I managed, despite the fact my mouth had dried uncomfortably.

“We need to talk.”

“But how…?” My mind was spinning. “How did you…?”

“Find you?” He held up his iPhone. “We always know where each other is, remember, theFind Myapp.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How could I have been so stupid? I’d totally forgotten we’d set that up. I’d never used it. Didn’t have the need to.

But if I had, I wouldn’t be in this bloody mess now. Trust was both a wonderful and idiotic thing.

“You know this guy?” Fiona asked as Steven came to a halt in front of me. A swirl of his strong cologne accompanied him.

“Sure she knows me, I’m her fiancé.” He flashed Fiona a devastating smile, one of his best—a hundred thousand pound smile, because that’s what companies paid for it. He then pushed his hand through his floppy blond hair, something he was known for doing owing to his last Annapurna Extreme Clothing campaign that featured him in the Himalayas and had hit every screen and ad board around the world.

“Oh…okay.” Fiona said, her features seeming to melt a little.

His outer casing didn’t fool me, not anymore. Underneath that perfect skin, perfect body, and perfect smile was a lying, cheating rat who by rights should be living in the gutter.

“Surprise visit,” he went on. “We’ve had a little misunderstanding that needs clearing up. Never good to go to bed on an argument, right?” He shrugged and switched his smile from Fiona to me. It didn’t falter, not a flicker.

“That’s what I always say.” She smiled up at him then squeezed my arm. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Talk? What the hell was there to talk about? I’d never wanted to see him again. Yet here he was. Argh!

“Pepperpot,” he said, cupping my elbow and using the pet name I hated. “This is all a terrible confusion, and if you’d let me explain yesterday we’d be man and wife now. You would know there is nothing to worry about.”

He led me away from the entrance to the hotel, past the tall topiary and the parked Mercedes. Dumbly I went with him.

“Confusion? What are you talking about, Steven?”

“Your aunt accusing me of having a fling with Cheryl. It’s all a simple mix-up. Nothing more than that. A misunderstanding. Of course I wouldn’t do that. I’d never cheat on you.”

“What?” I pulled my elbow from his hold and stomped several feet forward, putting distance between myself and him.