Page 21 of Risky Match
“Prince Adrian and Prince Stephen?”
“That’s right. We’ve known each other since we were teenagers, but we don’t see each other very often. They live in a castle not too far from here part of the time, so this is the perfectopportunity. I’ll be too busy after the tournament starts, so they invited me to dinner and to stay at the castle tonight.”
I’m not sure what to say when someone nonchalantly mentions having dinner at a castle to chat with a couple of princes. I go with, “That’s nice.”
“It will be. Oh, and before we go, let me give you the contact information for me, Erin, and Martina.
She hands me a card with their information and says, “See you soon.”
Smiling and waving, she turns and leaves the court.
My eyes follow her perfect, swaying bum. It’s a visible reminder that I need to stay away from her except for tennis. She’s trouble.
Hell, her friends are British princes, and her temporary hotel is a castle. I can’t offer her that level of luxury. What was I thinking, inviting her to stay at my house? She wouldn’t want to have dinner with me, much less spend another night in my bed. Our prior night was meant to be a one-off.
I wonder if she regrets it. Why do I even care?
Shaking my head, I realize it’s for the best that I’m reminded of our differences. We’ll keep our tennis partnership purely platonic and limit our time together.
“Josh, let’s get back to work. We’ve wasted enough time on that foolishness.”
6
BRIANNA
Ilet out a long sigh as Martina, Erin, and I leave the court.
“Are you okay?” Martina asks.
“That was tough. I knew Blake wouldn’t be excited about playing doubles, but I thought he had agreed to it. I felt like an idiot when he said he didn’t even know I was his partner. Then he tried to talk me out of playing.”
“I didn’t know. If I had, I wouldn’t have let you walk into that situation.”
“I know. Blake and I worked it out though. It’s fine.”
“Fine isn’t enough. I’ll talk with Josh. He will get Blake in line.”
“No. Don’t. I have this under control.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am. I need to hurry now, or I’ll be late for dinner.”
“This way. Your car is waiting,” Erin says.
As we walk in silence, I process how small I felt having to talk Blake into playing doubles with me. Tears threatened to fall, but I managed to hold them back. The thought of not playing at Wimbledon was overwhelming. Even worse, I couldn’t fathom blowing my CRM before it even started. I had to convince him to play, even if it meant swallowing my pride and begging, whichwas rare for me. Usually, people beg me to do something for them.
Then he comforted me with a hug, engulfing me in his lean six-foot-three frame and holding me tight with his bulging biceps and muscular forearms. Damn, he felt good. I swear I could feel his eight pack through our tennis shirts, and I’m fairly certain that wasn’t the only part of his body that was hard. His warm body against mine sent shivers from my head to my toes, conjuring memories of our hot night together.
Why does he have to be so damn attractive? I’d love to run my fingers through his thick, dark hair, lose myself in his deep blue eyes, and let his faint five o’clock shadow tickle me as we kiss. It’s going to take all my fortitude not to give in to those desires. And based on our hug, I suspect it’s not going to be easy for him either.
I’ll have to repeatedly remind myself that I’m spying on him because he may be a criminal. No way can anything happen between us. I can’t sleep with someone who may be part of something illegal.
“What time do we have a practice court tomorrow?” I ask.
“Josh is double-checking their schedule. I’ll text you when they confirm,” Martini answers.
“Make sure I have enough time to drive here from the castle. I’ll do my gym workout there if we’re practicing in the afternoon.”
