Risking the Crown

by Violet Paige

  “What about you, Lach? Do you think they’ll get any by you?”

  “I don’t see that happening.”

  Taylor slung an arm around my shoulder. “We’re confident we have the best keeper in the world.”

  It was nice to hear, but I didn’t need him to stroke my ego. But I took notes. Taylor Dirks was popular with the fans and possibly more popular with the press. He gave them time. He smiled. He always complimented his mates. He gave them sound bites like that one.

  I looked over the crowd and spotted Aspen leaning against a car. She was scrolling through her phone, but glanced up and smiled.

  It hit me out of nowhere, but I felt something twinge beneath my ribs when I locked eyes on her. Fuck.

  What in the hell was happening?

  I saw her standing there and all I could think about was walking over there and taking her in my arms. I wanted to kiss the hell out of her in front of all the reporters.

  It was a moment I couldn’t explain or describe. I didn’t know if it was her hair or the way she absently smiled at me, but there was something in her eyes that hooked me. I almost stumbled with the realization.

  No other woman made me react like this. No other woman lasted more than a day.

  Taylor answered another question, but it was just background noise. I stepped around them, making my way to the most beautiful woman in Rio.

  “Hi.”

  “I can tell it’s going well. You are finally trending for something other than a scandal.” She smiled. “You look good with the press.” I could tell it made her happy.

  I couldn’t help it. I snaked my arms around her waist, drawing her to me. “I look good with you,” I growled before planting a hungry kiss on her mouth.

  She moaned a little before making some space between us. She looked up, trying to read my eyes.

  “Sometimes I don’t know about you, Lachlan.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She looked at the pavement. “It’s nothing.”

  I tilted her chin upward. “Tell me.”

  “It’s just—sometimes I think this is all real.” She lowered her eyes. “You make it seem so real. Sometimes I forget.”

  Was it fucking real? Was that why my chest seized when I saw her? Was that why my arms ached to hold her? Did we make reality out of a fake relationship?

  I pulled the sunglasses from my face. “Does it matter?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. We have an arrangement. I shouldn’t have said anything. Only two weeks left, right? Then you can go back to England.”

  My hand landed on her elbow as she turned for the car door. “No, wait, Aspen. I was thinking the same—”

  But before I could finish my sentence, the paps were on my back. I felt the shove as they swarmed us. I tried to shield Aspen, but I was too late. One of the photographers lunged forward to get a close up of her and knocked her into the side of the car.

  The rage almost split me in half. I didn’t think. My fists reacted before I could control them.. I came out swinging, hitting more than the guy who had knocked Aspen over. I roared with anger as the first punch landed. I could hear Aspen screaming behind me, trying to jerk my arm into compliance, but the fury was fierce.

  “Stop, Lachlan. Stop!” she screamed, and then Taylor was on top of me, pulling me from the photographer.

  “Hold on, mate. Let go.”

  I reluctantly released my grasp on the wanker’s collar and stood on my feet.

  “Are you okay?” I turned to check on Aspen, but the horror was all over her face.

  “We need to go.” She pressed her lips together. “Now. Get in the car, Lachlan.”

  I saw the rip in her skirt. It must have gotten caught on the car. I felt the anger spring forward again, but I backed off. Taylor had made a barrier between the press and me.

  “Get out of here,” he urged. “Take care of her and I’ll handle this.”

  I wanted to stay and explain. I wanted everyone here to know why I had been caught up in the rampage. The asshole pushed her. She didn’t deserve that. And for what? A picture? Something he could have easily taken if he had just asked.

  I hung my head and walked to the other side of the car and ducked inside.

  Aspen fastened the seatbelt and leaned into the leather.

  “How? Why?” She looked straight ahead at the headrest in front of her while the driver pulled away from the curb.

  “Aspen, are you okay?” I ran my hand over the tear in her skirt.

  She nodded, but I saw a tear spill over her cheek. Shit.

  “I’m sorry. I was just trying to protect you. He shoved you and I lost my shit.”

  “When? When did this happen? I didn’t see this coming.” She spoke as if I weren’t in the car with her.

  “Love, I didn’t know what else to do. He shoved you.”

  “I get it. I do.” Her voice was quiet.

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “Because what are we going to do now?”

  I threaded my fingers through hers. “You’ll come up with something brilliant, love. You always do. I’ll do charity work or something. Maybe an exclusive interview with one of your American stations.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “Then what?”

  Her blue eyes sparkled with tears. “Lachlan, I can’t fake this anymore.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I have to break up with you.”

  “Because I punched someone?” This was bloody absurd. I felt the pang of desperation twist in my chest.

  “No, because I wanted you to. Because I liked it. Because you protected me. Because I felt like a girlfriend being honored and defended by her boyfriend. And then I had to go into optics mode instead of falling into your arms like I wanted to. I can’t do the deal anymore. It’s too real. If I let it go on for another two weeks, I’m going to leave here without my heart. I know it’s selfish. I know it wasn’t supposed to happen. But—”

  I couldn’t let her utter another word. I couldn’t let her think for another second that she was alone in this.

  I leaned over, dragging her lips against mine with urgent pressure. She sighed as her lips parted and I slipped my tongue along hers, dancing and twisting.

  “I want to take you back to the hotel.”

  “I feel like an idiot. I just made this huge confession and nothing has changed. You want sex. And God help me, I don’t want to tell you no.”

  “You need rest for the game tomorrow,” she protested.

  “You think I’m going to play like anything but shit if I don’t have you?”

  She giggled. “Maybe it will make your game better if I resist.”

  “Don’t even think about it, love.” I slid my hand up her skirt, strumming my fingers between her legs until she opened them for me.

  “Ohh,” she murmured as I stroked her gently. The no panties rule had been in effect since our first dinner date and it was fucking hot.

  I was scared as hell to say it, but if I didn’t, she wouldn’t know the truth. She wouldn’t know what the last week with her had done to me. She wouldn’t know that she had silenced my demons. She had made me a better man. A man who defended the woman he wanted. I wasn’t lashing out anymore, and drinking the darkness away.

  “Aspen…” I cradled her head in my hands as my lips trailed over her throat.

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “It’s real for me too. I can’t believe I’m fucking saying it. But it’s real.”

  She opened her eyes. “Are you screwing with me?”

  “No, love. I want more than Rio. I want more than two more weeks with you. After the Olympics are over and the torch goes out, I want you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

  I laughed. “You could say that.”

  20

  Aspen

  I looked into the dark, mysterious eyes of Lachlan Kenzie in disbelief. Did he say what I t
hought he said? Was he falling just as hard as I was?

  “I can’t believe this.”

  He kissed me tenderly. “Believe it.”

  I don’t know why the driver took the long route to the hotel—maybe he thought it would be fun to torture us in the backseat—but it felt as if an eternity passed before he deposited us outside.

  Lachlan led me inside, racing to the elevator with a big grin on his face. We couldn’t get there fast enough.

  I don’t know when the moment was for him, or if there was even a moment when everything came into focus. I think it had been collecting and layering in front of my eyes since the first night I met Lachlan in the athletes’ village.

  He had been rough and angry. Gorgeous and sexy with a dark past and a dim future. I did everything I thought I was supposed to do to protect my heart, but looking back, I didn’t try hard. I didn’t stand a chance. The minute I let him kiss me and take my body I was his. I was lost without him. I was only good with him and now he was telling me he was only good with me.

  He fumbled with the key, throwing the door open.

  He scooped me up from the floor, slamming the door behind us. His mouth sought mine with urgent kisses, biting and sucking at my lips.

  He lowered me to the bed, peeling the clothes from my body, shirking his to the floor. I admired his toned body as he unbuttoned his pressed white shirt. He was the sexiest man I’d ever seen.

  He grinned widely. “I can’t wait to fuck you like this.”

  “Like what?” My breath was rapid. I wanted him more than I ever had.

  “Just us. No more charade.”

  My heart thumped. I knew what else he meant. Skin to skin. Breath on breath. Nothing between us.

  His head lowered to my breast, sucking my nipple until it was a hard nub in his mouth. I pressed the back of his head against my chest. It all felt delicious and naughty. It was exciting before because we were playing a game, but now it felt dangerous because I was never supposed to be Lachlan’s girlfriend. This was even more dangerous. I was going somewhere with this bad boy that no woman had ever been.

  I reached forward to stroke his solid cock. God, I had fallen in love with it as much as him in the past week.

  He moaned as I massaged the head, coating the drop of dew over his skin.

  “Tell me, love. Tell me to fuck you just like this,” he growled.

  “Yes,” I begged. “Fuck me. I want it. I want you. Nothing between us.”

  And he reared back before slicing into me with total fullness as his hard shaft plunged deep to my core. I bowed off the bed but began rocking into him.

  We were hungry and passionate. Desperate to make the other feel the connection we shared. Desperate to make the other come with heavy pleasure.

  Lachlan moved inside me, hilting himself while I gasped for breaths. “Oh God,” I screamed, grabbing fistfuls of his hair in my hands.

  “Come, baby,” he commanded.

  There was no stopping it. I came over and over as the orgasm split through me fast and hard. I looked into his eyes as he tensed and pulsed with his own release. I tipped upward as he spilled himself deep inside me.

  “Fuck, Aspen.” He lowered himself next to me.

  I closed my eyes, letting the soothing feelings run through my body.

  “You know I can’t lie here very long.”

  “Why not?”

  I rolled on my side to face him. “I have to go clean up that nightmare you started an hour ago.”

  “Right.” He folded his hands over his chest. “Want some help?”

  I sat forward. “I think I’ll see what I can do first. I’ll let you know.” I kissed him on the cheek and scooted off the end of the bed.

  I had my work cut out for me. I reached for a robe on the chair and slipped my arms through the sleeves. I knew what I had to deal with before I even picked up my phone. I had missed calls and texts.

  I groaned when I saw Karen’s number.

  But the stakes were different now. I was with Lachlan. This wasn’t about the Revolution video game launch. It wasn’t about his brand. It was about letting everyone know this man was completely redeemable, and if I could fall in love with him—so could the rest of the world.

  21

  Lachlan

  Two weeks later

  I stared at the forward charging toward me. His eyes were focused on the goal. I had seen eyes like that before. Determination and skill were a lethal combination on the world stage like this. The noise from the fans was deafening.

  This wouldn’t be his first attempt to score on me. He had shot twice in the first half. He wasn’t leaving here without getting one past me. Only he didn’t know I had that same kind of determination.

  I wasn’t relinquishing my focus. I wouldn’t slip for one second. No hesitation. No fear. My fingers tingled as I followed the path his eyes took. I stepped out of the box as the crowd gasped. I was far from the net, but it was the only way to take him down.

  I ran full-speed toward the bastard and swiped the ball under him out of bounds. Fuck. I wanted it back in my hands, but he didn’t give me a choice.

  I walked back to the front of the net and waited for the opposition to set up a pass.

  My teammates gathered in front, deciding who was going to cover the next shot.

  I saw it coming before anyone else had time to think. I dove head first to the ground, reaching my fingertips long toward the goal post. The ball grazed my palms as I clutched the leather and wrapped it in toward my belly.

  That was more like it.

  Sixteen countries had started in this tournament three weeks ago, and it was down to two for the gold medal. Us and Brazil.

  The entire stadium was packed with almost eighty thousand screaming fans dressed and painted in our countries’ colors. There was only one fan out there that mattered to me. One who had changed my life more than a gold medal or a multi-million endorsement could.

  Aspen waved wildly from the box. She looked fucking cute in the British flag, especially for an American girl.

  There was an injury time out on the pitch and I jogged to the sideline for a drink of water. The heat wave had broken and we were dealing with more normal temperatures. There were only five minutes left. Five fucking minutes to decide the medal.

  It hadn’t meant anything to me before. But I wanted it. I wanted to win. I wanted that gold around my neck.

  The injured player was hauled off the field and the crowd booed.

  I walked back to the goal. This was it.

  My fingers twitched. I squinted hard, narrowing in on my target. He passed the ball off, but got it right back again. They ran as if their lives depended on it, and here they did. They were the home country, playing in front of their fans. The host city ready to take home the gold. And no UK team had won before. No one thought we could win. But I did.

  Because I had a new kind of faith. A faith that second chances happened in this shitty world. That darkness could evaporate. That loneliness could fade. And sometimes when you weren’t looking, there was someone in your corner when everyone else had abandoned you.

  I stared him down, daring him to kick that ball at me. Vowing if he did, that ball wouldn’t come near the net.

  He raced toward me, lining up the shot when it launched off his foot. I didn’t expect it to come at such a sharp angle. I threw myself in the air, fueled by adrenaline and hope. Hope that I could block the shot. Hope that I could end this game.

  I groaned when the ball smacked me in the chest. I fell to the ground, clutching it against my sternum. It fucking hurt like hell, but I stopped it. I fucking stopped it.

  The crowd erupted in disbelief. I didn’t give a shit. I saw the British flags waving from the corners and from this distance, I could see Aspen smiling and jumping in her seat.

  It was all I needed. I had everything.

  Three weeks ago I didn’t know that I could have more in my life than expensive liquor and a different woman in my bed every night. T
hree weeks ago I didn’t know I wanted more than that life. I took my talent for granted. I took my teammates for granted. Hell, I took my country for granted.

  All of that changed when I met a fiery American girl with a head for business and a body for the bedroom.

  What started off as a slow seduction and a fake relationship turned into the biggest reality check of my life. I needed her. I wanted her.

  My mates hoisted me in the air and I landed on a set of shoulders. By the time we made a round circling the pitch, the British fans had filtered to the bottom of the stadium. The Brazilian fans were angry and had thrown leftover drinks and trash on the ground.

  I looked everywhere for her. I hopped to the ground, searching the crowd. I smiled at one of the reporters, but ran past her looking for Aspen.

  And then she emerged from a throng of people. Her blond hair shone in the sun. Her eyes sparkled. She flung her arms around me as I lifted her. My lips found hers as I kissed her.

  “You did it.” She laughed. “You saved the game.”

  “I guess I did.” I kissed her again.

  The pitch was total chaos. No one thought we’d win. We’d done something no other team before us had been able to accomplish. It hadn’t sunk in yet—I didn’t know when it would that we were now a part of football history.

  The ushers tried to corral us to the sidelines so they could set up the stage for the medal presentation, but I didn’t want to move. I wanted another second to soak it in. I wanted to remember this moment. The moment when the walking train wreck had finally redeemed himself when his country needed him the most. When against all the odds I had succeeded. When no one believed in me, but the woman in my arms.

  “You realize this changes everything,” she said.

  I looked into her eyes. “No, love. It doesn’t.”

  I wanted her to know it had changed long before this moment. It had changed the first night we met. I was a better man because of her.

  Taylor came up behind me and tugged on my arm. “You’re wanted on the stage with the rest of us, mate. You can celebrate later.” He gave me a knowing look.