I do a double-take. Did she change clothes? “An English comfort food. Cottage pie.”
An open smile flashes on her face, giving me a quick picture of what she’s like when she’s relaxed and in the moment. “That’s one of my favorites.”
The sparkle in her eyes captivates me all over again, and I almost say I know but catch myself. “Mine, too.”
After a long appraisal of her in that dress, I transfer the sautéed meat and mushrooms into a baking dish. The little minx upped her game, which means I will have to do the same.
She leans over, inhales the aromas, and sighs. “Wow, that smells amazing already.” She blurts out a laugh when her stomach growls. “Guess I’m really famished.”
Something tells me she’s hungry for more thanmy cottage pie.
I never imagined a dinner could be so stimulating and yet knackering, but this competition with Lily is taking everything I have to keep up with her. She’s absolutely stunning, countering my every move with one of her own as if we’re playing a game of chess. And she’s bloody good at it.
When we finished our meal, she stood up to clear the table, and I swear she bent over intentionally, giving me a glimpse of creamy, smooth skin above her lacy bra. As the gentleman I am, I lifted my eyes immediately, but it wasn’t easy.
Now it’s my move, my turn to get even. I’m handing her dishes to load into the dishwasher, one of which is a rather large spoon and the sudden source of my inspiration. I angle the bowl of it under the faucet, resulting in a steam of water saturating the front of my shirt.
“Bloody hell, I’ve made a mess.” I turn the water off and take my shirt off, giving her a little taste of her own medicine.
At first, her gaze skims over me in the most satisfying way. “Here, let me help.” She takes the T-shirt from me and starts drying me off, the challenging gleam back in her eyes.
My brain implodes, making me unable to think—only act.
I grab her hips and lift her onto the counter on the other side of the sink and crash my lips against hers. Her hands weave into my hair as she parts her lips, giving me permission to explore deeper. Our kiss is frantic, no doubt due to how we’ve been teasing each other all evening. I’m so lost in her touch and the way she feels I let out a groan, which seems to spur her on.
Until she breaks the kiss and leans away. “Payton, what are we doing?”
Despite being shirtless—and breathless, I might add—the normally comfortable temperature of my apartment feels more like a sauna, and the last thing I want to do at thisminute is have a discussion. However, I can’t help but wonder if she’s still playing a game, or is that genuine concern flitting across her face? I want to kiss her again, but not at the risk of scaring her off.
“I don’t know, luv. But say the word, and we’ll stop.”
Her soft hands cup my face as her desire-filled eyes explore mine. I’m fascinated by the flecks of gold and green speckling her hazel irises, and I don’t wish to stop looking into their depths. But there’s no missing the indecision sitting there…the doubt.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt this deeply about anyone, and I don’t intend to take what’s developing between us lightly. That’s not how I roll.
First, covering her hands with mine, I turn my face to kiss the inside of each of her wrists, then step back. “Why don’t we call it a night?”
Her eyes widen subtly, making me realize how that sounded.
“That’s not what I meant.” I think about tugging her against me for a simple embrace to reassure her, but then remember I’m shirtless and have little strength to resist this beauty.
“As much as I’d love that,” I give her a pointed look so she’ll have no doubt how utterly desirable she is, “I don’t believe we should rush into anything.”
“Payton, I know?—”
I rest a finger against her kissable lips, aching to taste them again. But I’m not ready to let our little ruse go. Not yet. Not until I figure out exactly where this game ends and reality begins for her.
“Let’s call it a night, luv. The fundraiser is tomorrow, and I dare say we’ll have lots to discuss as well.” Grasping her hips, I lift her off the counter while she holds onto my shoulders.
Following her toward her bedroom makes my longing for her increase. And I don’t just mean physically.I want a future with this feisty woman who’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. As a royal and a hockey player, I’ve encountered my fair share of women, but I’ve never been one to chat them up because, to be frank, I found most of them boring.
But Lily’s different. I reckon I could spend a lifetime peeling back the layers and still never get to the bottom of what makes her so bloody special. She’s my ultimate adventure.
At her door, she spins around, her dress swirling about her shapely legs, and lifts herself up to kiss me on the cheek. “Good night, Payton.”
Her heady scent and warmth set my pulse racing again, and as she steps back, our gazes linger, giving me hope that this little game of hers could be very real.
Because this has been anything but a game for me since day one.
