Page 41 of Princess of Pride
Raveena nods at him to share.
His ebony face lights up like it did when I tried on the clothes and they fit my disproportionate body in a way I loved. “If you’re up for a little island adventure, I know a private place you can rent in St. Croix. A certain celebrity I’mgagafor was there just last spring.”
If it’s private enough for Ms. Gaga, it’s private enough for me. I’ll have to check the price. Once this is over, I still want to open my romance book and tea shop. I can’t do that if I lack the funds. Lachlan is the last person I would ever ask for money for anything. I may live in his house at some point, but I will live off my own money.
Benoîtpulls up the information on his phone and writes it on a notepad at the desk in the living room.
“Thank you.”
The Caribbean is far enough away that Lachlan might not look for me there. However, do I want to go to St. Croix? This was not part of my plan. Lachlan wasn’t either, but here we are.
Ugh. Part of me thinks this is ridiculous, and I’m being childish. But he’s an arrogant prick. He wants to screw me senseless. Had he gone about this a different, slower way and hadn’t lied from the beginning, I’d be open to letting the sexy man have his way with me.
After getting a taste of what he has to offer, I have no doubt I’ll enjoy it, but I refuse—refuse!—to let him see my naked body or touch me ever again. Not after how he playedwith me, turning me on and then leaving me horny and seething.
Blood burning through my veins, I call the number on the desk.
Four days. At seven thousand a night, I am only renting the house for four days. It looks beautiful from the pictures the leasing agent sent me. This place isn’t public knowledge. It has a gate and guard, which means Lachlan can’t just show up.
I laugh at the thought of him trying.
My flight leaves at nine p.m. Needing the caffeine, I slam a coke from the mini bar, and leave my room to catch my ride to the airport. The front desk already set it up for me.
Lachlan is a fool to think I wouldn’t run.
The elevator opens, and I get in. One other woman is inside with me. She gets off ten floors down from where I got on at the twenty-eighth floor. My stop is the lobby. My hair is done in a romantic french braid that starts on one side and ends on the other, falling over my left shoulder. It matches my white summer dress perfectly. The straps have bows at the top and the wrap style closes with a thin sash at the waist. A hidden hook keeps my breasts concealed with just a hint of cleavage.
The hem of the flowing skirt is short in a way my mother wouldn’t approve. Even though the light material is appropriate for St. Croix, I might be chilly here in the cooler night air, especially in my wedge sandals. Fortunately, I won’t be outside for long.
A tall man dressed in a black suit joins me in the elevator. Sunglasses cover his eyes. Who wears sunglasses in an elevator or at night for that matter? He doesn’t pay attention to me or even nod in acknowledgment, which doesn’t help me feel saferaround him. His huge physique doesn’t belong in a suit, more like a wrestling ring.
He rides with me to the lobby, and to my surprise, gestures for me to exit first. I’d rather not but the floor is crowded enough that I accept his offer. He follows only a few feet behind me on my way to the hotel exit.
I stop at the concierge to check if my ride is here. The attendant assures me it is and walks me to the waiting Mercedes S Class custom limo. Dad uses the same one to pick up guests or businessman from the private airport in Greenwich.
I pause for only a millisecond before telling myself it’s a coincidence. Nothing more.
The hotel attendant opens the door for me. I climb into the spacious all-black interior and get comfortable on the leather backseat. My door closes and the other side opens. A man joins me. I glance up front to see if the driver is noticing this, but the partition is up, blocking my view.
The scent of the woods after the rain hits me first. I don’t need to meet the man’s eyes to know they’re aqua.
Panic zaps me like a stun gun, freezing every part of me. By the time my brain recharges and tells me to get out, it’s too late. We’re driving away.
Lachlan’s gaze roams my body and the short hemline of the dress. “I told you not to run.”
“I wasn’t running,” I say with daggers in my eyes. “I walked.” And I’ll walk away from you again at the first opportunity.
“As much as I’m enjoying this game of chase with you, I’ve had enough. I’m needed back in Scotland.”
“Good. Go.” I cross my arms under my boobs. “I don’t mind sharing a ride to the airport.”
“This isn’t a ride. It’s my car and my driver, Connal. I believe you met in the elevator.”
“The beefy guy?”
“That’s the one.” He tugs his sleeves, his body so big compared to mine. “He’s your new watch dog.”
No way. I shift so I’m angled toward him. “That was not our agreement. We agreed to live separate lives.”
