Page 33 of A Game of Ruck

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Only she does.

“There’s only one woman I want to swim with, Angel.”

She blinks up at me, startled.

And then she smiles.

Not the forced one she’s been wearing for days, but the real one—the one that knocks the breath from my lungs and makes me forget this whole thing is supposed to be fake.

I brush my lips across her temple.

“And just so we’re clear, I don’t give a damn what any of them think.You’re the most beautiful woman on this beach.”

Her eyes widen, and for a second, I swear she forgets to breathe.

So do I.

But if there’s one thing I know right now—it’s this.

I’ve got no interest in playing pretend anymore.

Not when the real thing feels this damn good.

Chapter Eight-Annabeth

It’s nighttime,and I feel like I’ve stepped into someone else’s life.

Scratch that—someone else’s romcom.

A private beach swim with a professional rugby player who looks like he should be illegal in forty-nine states and all of Europe?

Check.

Said rugby player carrying me through the waves like I’m the heroine in some kind of hot-and-heavy Nicholas Sparks reboot?

Also, check.

And now I’m standing in this insane luxury suite getting ready for a rehearsal dinner that I was dreading three days ago, but tonight?

Tonight I actually want to go.

And why?

Because of him.

I spent the entire day with Luca.

And not just the parts where we had to keep up appearances in front of Lisa and her pastel army of Stepford Bridesmaids.

He’s been glued to my side the entire time.

Protective.Flirty.Stupidly sweet.

Laughing at my jokes like I’m the funniest person on the beach.

Stealing glances at me when he thinks I’m not looking.

And touching me like hemeansit.

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