Skye: an enemies-to-lovers, marriage of convenience, and fake relationship stand alone romance (Signature Sweethearts) by Kelsie Rae

Author:Kelsie Rae [Rae, Kelsie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-12T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Skye

The hot water from the shower is enough to rejuvenate my tired bones and to stave off the jet lag for a few more hours. Liam and I take turns––separately, of course––before setting off to see the sights.

“So, where are we off to?” I ask while drinking up the quaint alleys lined with lush, green vines and vibrant flower pots. Italy is just as beautiful as all the pictures online. Hell, it’s even more beautiful, and that’s saying something.

We have a tour at the Colosseum in”––he checks his wristwatch––“thirty minutes.”

“Ooo! I’ve always wanted to go to the Colosseum!” I gush. “Have you seen Gladiator?”

“With Russell Crowe?” He gives me a look that says I’m dense for even asking. “Of course, I’ve seen it. It’s a classic.”

“Right? Can you imagine if we had gladiators today?”

Rolling his eyes, he says, “You’d probably love to have a bunch of Russell Crowes walking around so you could cheer them on.”

Throwing my head back in laughter, I razz, “Hell, yes, I would! But only the early 2000’s Russell Crowe. I mean, you can keep the old guy, but the early 2000’s one? Mmm….”

“Should I be offended on his behalf?” He clutches his chest as if I’ve physically wounded him. “What are you gonna do when I get old, huh? You gonna kick me to the curb too?”

“Uh, I believe you’re the one kicking me to the curb as soon as we get home, so I’m not sure you have a whole lot of room to talk.”

I step off the curb and into the street before Liam’s hand grabs onto my arm and wrenches me back as a little scooter comes flying by.

Oops.

Spinning around, I practically fall into his chest, my hands barely catching myself against his hard pecs as I look up at him with wide eyes. “Whoa. Thanks for that.”

“Don’t mention it,” he mutters. “You okay?”

“Yup.” I don’t miss the concern written across his face, but I shake it off and put some distance between us. Looking both ways this time, I cross the street, and Liam stays at my side.

“What were we talking about again?” I ask.

“Your fascination with the young Russell Crowe and how you plan on kicking your future husband to the curb once he gets too old for your liking….”

“Or gets a beer belly, whichever comes first,” I finish for him with a wink.

His deep, booming laughter greets me, and I turn to see his amused expression assessing the girl beside him.

Me.

“And here I thought men were the superficial ones.”

“You are. I’m much less high-maintenance than you, Mr. Fake Husband.”

“Whatever!” he argues. “You just full-on admitted you’d dump a guy as soon as he loses his six-pack!”

“And even if that were true, which it isn’t, by the way, I want a guy for his brains, not his bod, but that’s beside the point. Even if it were true, I still wouldn’t be as bad as you are. I’ve seen the girls you bring around, Liam. No offense, but you’re

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