Page 19 of Fast-Track Fiancé

‘Aren’t you? Your top priority is your reputation, that’s what this little fake engagement ruse is all about after all.’

‘That was before...’ He paused, eyes closed and a pained expression on his face. For a moment she wondered if he was about to pounce, as he had that night in Milan when she’d dared him to. But all too quickly, the elevator doors slid open to reveal a long hall and two security guards. Tristan greeted the men by name, guiding her down the ornate hallway to a set of tall double doors.

The grand royal suite inside was as lavish and needlessly large as one would expect. It was modern and airy, but still held an air of history, as though it had been recently vacated by the kings and queens it had been named for. Priceless gold-framed artworks hung on every wall, and the ceilings were high and ornate with tiny cherubs carved into the moulding.

‘My own room was perfectly fine,’ she couldn’t resist griping as she followed along behind him through the cavernous hallway. ‘You could fit the entire team up here and still have space for a ball.’

‘I’ll get right on that, once I’ve made sure you haven’t passed out from your injuries.’

‘I’m fine.’ Tiredness washed over her and for once she didn’t feel like fighting him. ‘You don’t have to watch me, but I suppose that’s what my fiancé would do.’

‘I don’t care what I should do right now. Not when I’ve just watched you smack into a metal wall at almost three hundred kilometres an hour.’

‘It wasn’t that fast. I had just decelerated from a turn, remember.’

He narrowed his eyes wildly upon her once more, his deft hands pausing inside the first-aid bag he’d produced.

‘I’ve already been checked and cleared by the medical team, Tristan, no cuts and no visible wounds of any kind, other than minor bruising.’

‘I know. I spoke to them over the phone and had a second opinion phoned in by my physician in Paris.’

‘You did?’

‘Yes. I did.’ He met her eyes, his mouth opening for a second as though he might add to that but, instead, he just went back to gathering more medicines and an ice pack from the case.

He guided her into the massive master bedroom, insisting that was where she would sleep tonight. Growing more groggy and tired by the minute, Nina didn’t argue when he kneeled down to remove her running shoes and helped her peel off the cotton yoga pants and baggy T-shirt she had hastily changed into after the medical team had finished scanning her entire body for internal bleeding and fractures. As calm and cool as she pretended to be, hitting the wall at such high speed was not a minor thing.

In fact, it was the one incident she had managed to avoid her entire career thus far, having only heard anecdotal accounts from other drivers about the shocking pressure of the gravitational forces that came with travelling at exceptionally high speeds. If you put a solid metal barrier in front of that speed unexpectedly, well... She had been incredibly lucky today.

Maybe that sense of relief was why she didn’t stop Tristan from fussing over her pillows as she took the pain relief medication he’d laid out. He guided her back against the pillows he’d adjusted but then surprised her by lying down next to her on the bed.

‘Get comfortable here, because you are not leaving this bed.’

Nina rolled over to her side so that she could look at him, wincing when even that hurt. ‘Don’t threaten me with a good time, Falco. Your three-day wait is up—am I finally about to get the full playboy experience?’

He turned to face her, and for the first time she realised that he had removed his suit jacket and tie. She took in the bared skin on show, the strong column of his throat and the top of his tanned chest beneath. When she looked up to see his eyes had darkened upon her, she swallowed audibly.

Tristan made a low tutting sound, reaching out to place the back of his hand against her now flushed cheek. ‘Utterly insatiable...even with a possible mild concussion. Is that truly what you’re thinking about right now?’

‘You made me promise you, after all,’ she whispered, shivering as his knuckles trailed down to skate along the side of her neck and bare shoulder.

‘Even I have my limits when it comes to focusing on certain situations.’ His brows furrowed, his hand sweeping down the outside of her arm where light bruising was already beginning to appear.

‘How can someone be so fearless and strong, and still be so utterly breakable?’

She wasn’t sure if he had intended to speak those words aloud, and the sudden strain in his voice hit her squarely in the chest. She realised then that his snappy, irritated caretaking was not exasperation as she had assumed, but possibly...worry? For her?

‘So you’ve skipped out on your big event to tuck me into bed?’ she asked quietly.

‘You need to rest. And I’m here to make sure that you actually do that.’

‘You’ve waylaid all my self-destructive plans for the night, I assure you. Sophie is likely very relieved. I told her I planned to order every dessert on the menu and then eat every single one while watching as many romantic comedies as I can find. She hates romance almost as much as she hates refined sugar.’

‘But you don’t?’

‘Romcoms have always been my go-to for when I’m overwhelmed. They’re like medicine, they help me calm down and...regulate.’ She used the last word deliberately, gauging his reaction to the rather clinical term. She’d often wondered if her personal collection of unique strengths, differences and challenges were perhaps symptoms of something more. Something that her parents hadn’t noticed or hadn’t known to look for. But after seeing Astrid on the yacht, she’d done a little research and it turned out she ticked quite a number of boxes.

Tristan frowned. ‘I can see how that would help. I usually prefer action-adventure-type films, but my mother and I would watch all the classic romantic comedies together to learn English. I had quite an interesting vocabulary for a number of years.’

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