Page 1 of Love Thief

Chapter

One

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EVIE

Iwake up with a start, my senses telling me something’s not quite right here. They’re right, I’m not alone. The sunlight is creeping under the blinds in the master bedroom of my docklands apartment, the mid-May morning starting to heat up. A bit like my body, as I smell the man taking up most of the king size bed. Pepper, leather, summer sun, cornfields, and the musk of a man. Kellen. I don’t open my eyes. I don’t want to believe it’s real. If I don’t see him he can’t really exist, can he?

He rubs his foot up and down my leg. “I can tell you’re awake.” His voice is a bit groggy. “I am real. You can’t pretend I’m not here.”

I know if I open my eyes, he’ll be looking at me, grinning. The bastard.

The unbelievable chain of events plays back through my mind. Me, Evie Greystone, him, Marcus Henry James Kellen Russell-Lord Stockton, his best mate Xander Barclay, and our two sons, James and Bucky, all standing in Kensington Registry Office. My memory mocks me, gasping out the immortal words ‘I do.’ Becoming in one fell swoop, the newly wed Countess of Stockton, wife of The Rock Star Royal.

I crack an eye open. “What happened to all my pillows?” The cosy wall I’d erected between us last night, as he’d insisted we should start as we mean to go on, is as absent as my sanity.

What was I thinking? Pretending we’re married for the whole world, and enjoying a full relationship, while in reality we’re merely ensuring our son James will inherit a title and estate on Marcus’s eventual demise. Although if he continues to stroke my leg, it may be quicker than either of them thinks.

I agreed to ‘marry’ Marcus, (or Kellen as I call him)—in a secret ceremony in the UK—for six months, in an effort to flush out the instigator of the title issues. And we’re scheduled to head out to Las Vegas in a few days to do the incredible deed all over again. This time in the full glare of paps, press, social media, and anyone who cares to look.

James, Bucky, and Xander left us at the restaurant after the ‘ceremony’ to go on to a club, so we headed home. Together.

So awkward. We drank whiskey, and I tried to pass out, but the more I drank the more sober I seemed to get. He suggested the bed, well insisted, and I couldn’t be bothered to argue. I built my pillow barrier, put on my PJs, and spent the most uneventful, PG-rated wedding night with a rock star ever.

Maybe I can bore him into a quicker divorce. I smile at that thought. I am a boring person, choosing to spend my days in and around old buildings rather than living the rockstar life, so it might just accomplish that.

“What’s that smile about? I feel a plot coming on,” he mumbles as he pulls me towards him. “Stop smiling like that, you’ll give me a complex.”

I huff out a breath at the fake panic in his voice. “I doubt it. Nothing gets past that giant ego. And stop tugging at me, you’re making me hot.”

He smirks, “Occupational hazard, baby.”

I start to laugh. “Unreal, Kell. You’re ridiculous.”

He pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head. “It’ll be fine, we’ll be alright. Six months, then you can go back to sleeping alone. We used to sleep together all the time.”

“Yes, but we did actually sleep, nothing else.” I roll my eyes at him.

“Well, we managed that pretty well last night, so it shouldn't be an issue.”

I can feel his cock pressed against my leg and try to move away slightly.

He starts to laugh again. “Can’t help that. It’s morning, after all.”

“Morning, noon, and night, don’t really see much difference,” I snark at him.

“Oh, believe me, baby, there is.”

His pout is disarming and sexy as he smiles down at me through his lowered eyelids. The man is a menace. And that’s my cue to get up.

I push out of his arms and move towards the bathroom and shower. He laces his hands behind his head, watching me as I move around the bedroom.

“Shall I join you?” he asks, all innocence.

I don’t answer and hear him chuckle again as I slam the door. This is going to be a looong six months, but at least he’s respecting my wishes. I just wonder how long that’ll last, how hard he’ll push it.

I take a short shower, even though I could stay in for ages, letting the warm water ease any tensions and relax my mind. We need to get down to Devon. I need to bring the rest of my family up to speed on what’s happened. Is happening. Try to explain this debacle.

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