I didn’t wait any longer for her to accept my help getting up. Instead, I wrapped my palm around her hand and lifted her until she was standing.
She was average height with a heart-shaped face and plump light-pink lips. Her copper hair was wavy, just hitting the top of her shoulders, and from that close up, I spotted a cluster of freckles on her cheeks.
I’d picked up on how gorgeous she was the first time I’d laid eyes on her in Spill the Tea, but it had been the spitfire conversation she’d been having with that Gwen woman that had caught my attention first.
“Chelsea, is it?” I remembered her name from earlier in the day, even though Simon had mentioned it too. I hadn’t remembered much of what he’d told me about the live-in nanny other than that she was staying in their pool house and that I should leave her be. My mind snorted at the irony. I’d only been in America for a day, and I was already breaking rules. “I’m Liam.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, I’m aware of who you are now,” she said as she pulled her hand out from mine. “Simon called. Good thing because I was about to call the cops.”
The irritation in her tone answered my earlier question about where her anger was coming from. That was it. I’d frightened her. “Apologies. I didn’t know anyone else was home.”
“Well, I am.” She folded her arms and tilted her head at me with a glare. “I’m here most of the time, so if you could keep the music down at night, that would be great.”
I opened my mouth to point out that it was only eight o’clock, hardly late, but that seemed to be missing her point. She was clearly perturbed that I was there in the first place. “I promise to keep the noise down.”
As much as I wanted to say more—or to make some sort of deal about giving her what she wanted if she gave me what I wanted—I thought better of it. It was best for me to keep my mouth shut. The last thing I needed in my life was tension with this woman who I didn’t even know. Enough strangers were angry at me back home.
After I had accepted the role on a reality television show cleverly titled British Bachelor, I had expected the aftermath to play out very differently than it had. During the entire promotional period and even during the first two months of the show airing, I was a god to the media. Even though I knew how the show would end, and that it would be disappointing at best, I had never expected the fallout to be so damaging. Clearly, I’d been in denial.
I’d fucked up, which wouldn’t surprise most people who knew me, but this time I’d fucked up on a reality TV show that happened to have record-breaking ratings and an insane amount of buzz. According to executives, the show was going to resurrect me from “ex-Olympic athlete fame” to “influencer-level famous.” While I could care less about using my brand to sell products for other companies, it was a start.
My mission had been simple. I would date a bunch of women, choose one at the end, and live a long and happy life shagging said woman. At thirty-three years old, I had no problem signing on to that plan—until it had come time to choose from my top three women. I’d never felt so trapped in my life, and I’d had no bloody clue how to handle it.
In the end, I’d walked away from all of them. I’d also walked away from a one-point-five-million-pound contract. Since I hadn’t shown up to the show’s finale, which consisted of a live interview between all the contestants and myself, I hadn’t earned a single penny.
I could have coped with the financial disappointment. What I couldn’t cope with was how explosive the media had become, which fed into the rabid fan base of the show, creating a shitstorm afterward.
My first reaction had been to flee. Simon’s manor in Providence, Rhode Island, had seemed like the perfect destination. No one would know me there. Not yet, anyway. Things would change when the show’s repeats started to play on American television, but I planned to be long gone before that time.
For the moment, all I wanted was some peace during my perfect little getaway so I could contemplate how to dig myself out of the hole I’d made. It was the only place I could think to go where I wouldn’t be followed, photographed, or screamed at, and I intended to keep it that way. Which meant, other than Simon and Bridget, no one could know about my stint on reality television, including the nanny.
“Well, thank you.” Chelsea stepped back, tension seeming to dissipate from her body. Her shoulders relaxed, and her narrowed eyes softened. Then she cleared her throat. “So, Liam. What brings you to Providence?”
“Holiday.” The word came quickly, so quickly it sounded false even to me.
She quirked an eyebrow. “Without the Hogues here?”
I shrugged. “They will be.”
“So you plan to stay awhile, then?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a month.”
That gave her pause. She shifted her stance, and I could almost guess the next question that would pop from her mouth.
“That’s a long vacation. What is it you do for work?”
“I’m between contracts at the moment.” I’d thought about all of the one-off questions a stranger might ask me, but I hadn’t expected them all at once. My plan was to be vague, charming, polite, and never give anyone reason to look me up on a search engine and find out the cold truth.
“What is your line of work?”
“I’m in the entertainment industry, but the details are all quite confidential.” Time to change the subject. My first thought was to invite her for a swim, but then I remembered something. “I should be getting back to my swim. I don’t want to keep you from your activities. You’re off to a good shagging, is that right?”
Chelsea laughed lightly, and I detected discomfort there. I purposely kept my eyes on her skin, eagerly waiting for it to redden. I was rewarded with a deep-pink blush from her neck to her cheeks.
“Gwen finds too much pleasure in my personal life,” Chelsea said. “She crossed the line today. I thought if I gave her something to talk about, she’d quit prying.”
I bent my brows together. “So, I’m to believe you are not shagging a man with a giant willy?”
The smile she gave me next felt brighter than the pool’s glow behind me. “I am not, indeed, shagging a man with a giant willy. Not tonight, anyway.”
“That’s unfortunate for you, I suppose.”
Her eyes settled on mine, no longer narrowing in anger and no longer bent in confusion. She was looking at me like a woman who might just be flirting. While I knew I’d started it, I knew it was poor judgment to let it continue.
I slapped my palms to my sides. “Well, lovely chat. I’ve got to get back to my lengths.” I laughed at the strange look she gave me. “Or I should say laps.”
She took a step back toward the pool house. “I hope you enjoy your stay. If you have trouble finding anything, just knock or use the intercom system. I know my way around the manor pretty well, so…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze slipped back down my body.
Her wandering eyes made me want to show her exactly what heaven was made of. But the second my thoughts started to go there, down their naturally dark and dirty path, I stopped myself. This trip wasn’t about wetting my knob, though I could have gone for a good shag after months of celibacy. I had a plan, and I would stick to it.