20. Chapter 20
Stretching lazily, my palm drifted over warmth and solid muscle. For a second, I didn’t move. My eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the soft light filtering through the shutters. I was half draped across him, my cheek resting just beneath his collarbone, my thigh next to his.
My hand lay flat against his chest—fingers splayed over inked skin.
The lion.
My thumb brushed the curve of its mane absentmindedly, tracing the edge of dark lines that wrapped over hard muscle. The symbolism wasn’t lost on me. His hair had fallen forward in sleep, a dark lock spilling over his forehead.
Without his usual intensity sharpening his features, he looked younger than twenty-eight. His jaw was still strong, carved to perfection, but it was relaxed right now. His lips were full and annoyingly perfect. They were parted with the slow rhythm of sleep.
He was beautiful. And he had no idea. It was one of the things I appreciated the most about him. He was cocky, but only in dance. I shifted just enough to feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my palm.
Warm. Solid. Real. I had slept on that.
Surprisingly well-rested despite the long journey and unfamiliar bed, I smiled to myself. There was no panic. No lingering sense of unease. This was easier than I thought it would be.
For a woman who had spent years bracing for impact, it was wildly freeing. Careful not to wake him, I eased up on my side of the bed and grabbed my phone off the table. As I checked the time and scrolled through notifications, a mischievous grin formed.
I’d spent the night with a man.
Was it ridiculous to let that sentence echo in my head like it meant something scandalous? Absolutely. But the thought had taken root. And if I was going to fake date him for ten days, I might as well enjoy the headline. And I knew the perfect people to loop into things.
With a quick glance at the sleeping figure beside me, I snapped a picture of him. I couldn’t resist the urge to tease my girls.
BELLA:
I slept with a man last night…
I sent them the picture, noting the time difference. It was roughly four p.m. in London. Safe enough that the guys were more than likely still working. A flurry of responses buzzed back, almost as if they had been waiting for me to text.
TORI:
You’re so bad! You gave me a heart attack before the picture came through.
KINS:
OMG. How was it? Are you sore? Ice works wonders.
TORI:
She didn’t sleep, sleep with him. Look at the attachment.
KINS:
Oh. You could, though. We won’t tell, right, Tori?
BELLA:
Glad to know.
KINS:
What did you wear?
I rolled my eyes as if she hadn’t watched me pack. Glancing down, I confirmed he was still completely out. One arm flung above his head, the other trapped awkwardly beneath the pillow. Deep sleeper, indeed.
Perfect.
Carefully, I slipped my phone onto the mattress beside me and leaned back down. With slow movements, I eased his arm free from beneath the pillow. He shifted but didn’t waken. I guided his arm around my waist, pressing it snug against me.
Then I slid closer, letting my cheek rest against his chest again. This time I draped my leg casually over his thigh. His warmth seeped into me instantly, steady and solid. The faint scent of his body wash lingered in the air.
For effect, I adjusted just enough so the neckline of my cami dipped. Subtle and suggestive. Entirely intentional. Tilting my chin upward, I angled the phone just right—his bare chest, my lace, the illusion of something far more scandalous than reality.
Click. I quickly sent it to the girls, and within seconds I got two immediate responses.
TORI:
Well, that makes a statement, huh?
KINS:
ISABELLA ROSE!
Ignoring the sleeping man inches from me, my fingers danced across the tiny keyboard.
BELLA:
What? I thought you said you approved.
A subtle shift of covers let me know he was turning onto his side.
Glancing up from my phone, I found myself drowning in amber.
Caught off guard by the intensity of his stare, that familiar flush of warmth crept into my cheeks.
I was suddenly very self-conscious. With a nervous laugh, I quickly lowered my phone, attempting to appear normal.
“Good morning,” I breathed.
“What were you doing?”
“Texting the girls, bragging about how I scored last night.”
He raised an eyebrow, and his eyes traveled down my body.
I had two choices. Bolt like the emotionally stunted gremlin I normally was…
or act like a normal twenty-four-year-old woman lying in bed with a man.
I chose the latter, but closed my eyes. He was just looking, and I was, not a minute ago, admiring his bare chest.
At least mine was covered.
“I think I’m the one who scored. Is this how you plan to greet me every morning?” he breathed.
His voice sounded gravely, and only then did I recognize the tone. Hell, I’d heard it a thousand times with the guys and Kinsley. My eyes flew up, thinking I’d see his staring into mine. Instead, his eyes were glued to the front of my top.
“So you’re saying you don’t approve of my pajamas?” I asked timidly.
I’d always had large breasts. Hated them from the minute I grew them, but knowing he was looking and seeing hunger in his eyes made me for once grateful for them. I knew from the right angle how deep my cleavage could be.
“No. I love them. Sexy and unexpected. Like you.”
The heat in my face intensified, and I playfully hit him. “Stop, you’re embarrassing me.”
“And you’re flashing me. Which I’m not complaining about, but a bit of a warning. I am a man Isabella—”
I followed his gaze and yelped, scrambling backward as I yanked my top up.
The shoulder straps had loosened in the night and my left breast was now hanging out.
No wonder Kinsley typed in all caps. Shit.
So much for acting like a normal woman. I faced away from him, adjusted the top covering myself and groaned.
And then a whole new realization hit, I quickly pulled up the photo on my phone and let out a squeak. “Oh God, shoot me now. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
My phone rang at the exact same time. “Delete it now,” I exclaimed to Victoria, making my way into the bathroom to hide.
A soft chuckle followed as I closed the door behind me. Sliding down in a heap, I pressed my back against it as mortification consumed me.
As I deleted the photo, I answered Victoria in a rushed whisper, “No, I didn’t realize my nipple was playing peek-a-boo and can you tell Kinsley to stop laughing? This isn’t funny. No, he did see. He’s awake and, oh God, tell the guys to send the jet for me. I’m coming home.”
Why hadn’t I checked the picture? I knew better. What if it looked flabby or my nipple was abnormal. The stupidest thought followed. What if he’d seen better. Of course he’d seen better.
As if she could read my internal thoughts, Victoria spoke. “Come on, it’s not like he’s never seen a nip before.”
“Yeah, not mine,” I muttered, knocking my head against the door. I would not be stupid and cry. That was Kinsley’s thing. Not me. I breathed through it.
“Well, it could be worse,” Tori said.
“Yeah, I doubt that.”
“He saw mine at the auction house.” A pause and gasp followed. “Oh, God!” A mortified groan greeted me from Tori.
“What?” I asked, sitting up.
“I just realized he’s seen me totally nude. How could I have forgotten that?”
“He’s seen me, too,” Kinsley added. “But it’s no biggie. It’s just Pasha. He’s harmless.”
“She’s right,” Tori said. “And it could be so much worse, honestly. You could have sent the image to the family chat. You could have sent it to Marcus. I accidentally flashed him a nip once.”
“You dirty girl!” Kinsley exclaimed.
“I said accidentally. I’m sure he’s seen more of you than me.”
“Ha. If we were betting you’d be wrong and forking over a hundred dollars. Although he did see me squirt that one time, but I was clothed. The Reaper was all jelly—”
“You are not helping, Swan,” I groaned.
“Luv, deep breaths in. You’re acting like you just flashed a priest at Sunday morning mass.” Victoria laughed. “You’re stunning, Bella. Once accidental nip is not going to end the world.”
“That’s not the point,” I argued weakly. “It’s about preserving my dignity.”
“Your dignity will survive, trust me on this one. Pasha is tactful if nothing else. Tell me something. Did he look horrified.”
“No.”
“Disgusted?”
“Nope,” I mumbled.
“Then what’s the problem? What did he look like?”
I hesitated. Hungry. He looked hungry.
“Never mind. You are both right, I’m over-reacting.”
I wasn’t about to tell Tori what he looked like. A knock sounded on the bathroom door. I rose. “One minute,” I called out.
“We’ll let you go,” Victoria said. “Call us later.”
I ended the call and rushed to use the restroom so I could give him the space. As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection. My cheeks were flushed, and my eyes were bright. I looked a little undone. Nothing to be ashamed of. My girls were right.
It was a small slip-up, nothing to make such a big deal about. You’ve got this.
I straightened, smoothed my top down properly, ensuring I was covered, and brushed my teeth. With one last mumbled pep-talk to the girl in the mirror, I opened the door. He was standing there, arms crossed over his chest.
Thankfully, his eyes were on my face. His smirk said it all, though, and my cheeks burned. Scratch my earlier thoughts. There was no salvaging what remained of my dignity.
“You okay?” he asked, amusement lingering.
“I am,” I lied. “It was a minor wardrobe malfunction.”
“You seem to have a lot of those, at least lately,” he drawled, his eyes once more dancing down my body. My nipples tightened to hard points under his attention. Damned traitorous things.
“Well, at least I didn’t flash Marcus. Victoria did once, not meaning to, but if she can survive that and you seeing her naked, so can I.”
There was a brief pause, followed by the sound of his rich laughter. “Glad you’ll survive. Maybe next time you’ll let me assist you,” he teased, his words infused with that playfulness I loved.
“I’ve got it covered, literally,” I retorted, working hard to keep my tone light and brush off the humiliation.
“I want to know what you sent the girls that needed deleting. Kinsley sent me a slew of messages ranging from advice, as if I needed it, to simultaneously telling me to take it slow.”
I groaned, making a mental note to give her a piece of my mind later. Straightening my shoulders, I said, “You’ll never know.”
“Oh, I think you misunderstand me. I was giving you the opportunity to tell me yourself. You do know how close Kinsley and I are? That brother/sister bond similar to you and Bash. We don’t keep secrets. Although I’d suggest we keep this one between ourselves.”
My throat grew dry. “What are you saying?”
“My phone is on the side table. Check out my new background screen.”
I gasped, and my eyes drifted beyond the bathroom. As I moved toward it, he reached out a long finger and trailed it down my arm.
“Don’t think about changing it. If you delete it, I’ll put it back up, this time cropped lower. And just so you know, I put it in a secret folder on my phone. You’ll never find it.”
“Is this how you want to start the trip?” I glared.
“I’m not the one who posed in her fake boyfriend’s arms with a nipple lying against his chest. I’m upset I wasn’t conscious enough to remember the way it felt. But feel free to take advantage of me anytime, princess. Wear comfortable shoes today.”
He winked, dismissing me, and shut the bathroom door. His laughter continued on the other side. Grumbling under my breath, I tried to ignore the warmth blooming low and steady at the thought of being his screensaver. It was ridiculous to care. But a part of me did.
It’s all for show.
Taking advantage of the empty room, I rushed to get dressed. I moved about, selecting my outfit. Despite my initial embarrassment, I focused on the performance we were going to put on today.
Knowing that Hannah and her new boyfriend were going to be coming in this morning had me on edge. I could only hope that what he’d said about her moving on was right. The last thing I wanted was to end up in an American jail on assault and battery charges.
I quickly donned black high-waisted biker shorts and slid a pair of distressed jean cutoffs over them. They were on the short side, but the biker shorts peeking out gave me a bit more coverage. I paired it with a vintage short-sleeved crop top with a skull on the front.
Lacing up my low top Converse trainers, I grabbed his phone from the bedside table. He wanted a picture of me? I’d give him one worth looking at.
I angled the camera carefully and snapped a new picture.