Page 21 of Princess of Pride
“This is hardly public.”
“Anytime it’s not the two of us, it’s public.”
I groan. “If only I had seen the side of you yesterday, I would have?—”
“What? What would you have done? Gone against your father and not married me? Chose to live without your trust fund? We both know you wouldn’t have done anything differently.”
I hate him for being right.
At the patio to the pool house, I wrench free from him, escaping easily as if he let me go.
Lachlan’s gaze slides over my body, stopping on my breasts. Somewhere along the way, I lost my cleavage insert. Dammit.
I use my hands to cover myself as best as I can. “How long is this going to take, I’m chilly?” The breeze is cooler than usual for June.
“After that little stunt you pulled at dinner, I should carry you to the pool and toss you in the cold water.”
“The pool is heated.” I deliver with the same finesse as sticking out my tongue.
His jaw flexes. “Get inside.”
I would argue, but I’m chilly. I’m also a bit wary about him tossing me into the pool. Yes, the water is heated but getting out would be freezing.
I spin on my high heel and let myself into the pool house.
5
I CAN BE QUIET
Lachlan follows me inside and removes his jacket. He drapes it over one of the living room chairs, then undoes his cuffs and rolls up his sleeves.
“How well do you know Raphael?” He goes to the bar and pours himself a glass of scotch.
“No. I don’t want a drink, but thank you for offering.” I perch on the end of the chair closest to the front door and shiver. It’s not much warmer in here. “On second thought, I’ll have one to warm me up.”
Lachlan ignores both my comments and downs his liquor. “If you want some, come and get it yourself.” He sets his glass down and stares at me, as if waiting to see what I’ll do.
I join him in his staring contest, taken aback by how luminous his aqua eyes appear, even in the dim lighting of the pool house.
Seconds pass. We’re blinking, so I don’t know how this contest ends. The first person to look away? All I know is I want to win. It’s not like it’s hard to stare at his face. He’s so handsome. Polished like the entry marble floorsto the estate, but with something dark lurking beneath. Something you wouldn’t notice, like his tattoos, unless you studied him like I’m doing now. The tightness in his jaw, the slight squint in his eyes and the calculating way he watches you. I know he’s ripped under those clothes with abs that could rival a gladiator. The impeccable appearance is starting to seem like a cover up.
What’s he hiding? I think it’s something more than just being gay.
My back hurts from sitting on the edge of the cushion, and I’m still chilly as if the thermostat is set to sixty. Goosebumps prickle my skin. Without breaking eye contact, I take his jacket from the back of the chair and place it around my shoulders.
His gaze breaks from mine and slides over my body in his jacket.
I clap and shout with excitement. “I win.”
His expression doesn’t change from that stoic state as he walks to me, his gaze hard on mine. The way he stalks toward me, like a predator, has me sliding back in the chair. I swallow and lift my chin a little to hold his gaze.
His hands land on the arms of the chair and his face levels with mine. I’m hit with the heady scent of the woods after a storm.
“Raphael? Howwelldo you know him?”
Thunder rolls outside, drawing my attention to the large windows on either side of the fireplace.
“Are we at the sharing point of our relationship? Because I’m a tit for tat girl.”
