"You know, I could kill you right now." Tessa doesn't even look up from the box she's unpacking. "I don't even think I'd feel bad about it. What do you think Lynette? Shelly? Do you think she deserves to die?"

"What have I done," I ask as I survey the room which, according to Tessa, will eventually serve as the curator’s office, but which she's currently decided to use as a kind of base of operations while we get the museum up and running.

"You run off for a full week, are a few days late getting back, and you come back looking all ... tan and limber. Meanwhile, Shelly, Lynnette and I have been here, busting our butts trying to figure out exactly what starting a museum from scratch entails. So yes, I could kill you right now. Cheerfully."

Queen Lynette stands and walks towards me. The memory of all the different things I spent doing with her eldest child this past week flashes through my mind and I blush. There's no way I'll ever feel comfortable around her again.

She ignores my discomfort and brushes a light kiss across my cheek. "Welcome home. I'd love to hear all about the French Riviera, but I'm afraid I have an appointment I simply must get to."

With that, she drifts out of the room, leaving only a cloud of her subtle perfume in her wake.

"Okay, spill."

"Pardon?"

"Need I remind you of how I've spent the last week. The only thing that's kept me going the last few days is knowing that I'd be able to live vicariously through you as soon as you get home. So, spill. Now."

I glance at Shelly. My blush deepens. "I can't. Not right now."

"Shelly doesn't care." Tessa guides me to a chair. "She's having a rough week herself."

"Really."

She nods and Tessa jumps in with an explanation. "Don't tell anyone, but that piano master or whatever he's called. He and Shelly are doing a little more than playing piano, if you get my drift."

Thanks to my week with Lucas, I do. Probably better than I really wanted to.

I search my memory and call up a dim recollection of a narrow-faced man who'd hovered near my sister-in-law while she helped clothe me for the press conference.

"The trouble," Tessa continues. "Is that he's married."

"Oh." I don't know what else to say.

Shelly takes the chair next to me. "There’s something about him. I don’t know how to explain it. When we’re together, he’s the most romantic guy I’ve ever met. He even talks the way I imagine Lord Byron spoke. He’s never stops complimenting me, and bringing me flowers, and, oh, there’s about a hundred other things he does that are just so sweet. He’s as passionate about music as I am, maybe ever more so, and whenever we’re together, he’s just as passionate towards me.”

“I sense a but coming,” I say.

“Yeah. It’s hard to explain. When I’m with him, everything seems right in the world. But when I’m not, when I think about him something feels … off. Really off. I get a sick feeling like I’m being manipulated. I’ve tried ending things a few times, but,” Shelly rubs her forehead, “each time I try, he does something sweet and I give in. I wish I could hire someone to dump his ass for me.”

She shakes herself and pastes a force smile on her face and takes one of my hands in hers.

"But enough about me and my depressing life. Like Tessa, I'm dying to hear how the honeymoon went. Are you and my brother madly in love?"

I stiffen. "Hardly."

The word love hadn't been spoken since that first night in the barn when Lucas made it very clear that he'd had no intention of ever falling for me.

Not that I haven't thought about love and all it means about a million times over the past few weeks. Each time Lucas did something spontaneous, such as attempting to make scrambled eggs, or sweet, like hand picking a batch of red poppies, tucking them into a vase, and setting them on my bedside table, it felt like a giant hand squeezing my chest.

With the arrogance stripped away, I really like him. I know that I'm in danger of falling love with him. And that it will – can – only end badly for me.

"This is a temporary situation," I remind Shelly and Tessa. "We're only staying together long enough for him to win this bet and for the press to be appeased. After that, we’re going are separate ways."

I don't know how I was going to get through that day. Or any of the following ones, for that matter.

"Okay, so you're not in love," Shelly says, "but did you at least make him forget that bitch, Sharon Peeters?"

"Who?"

"Sharon Peeters? Let me guess, my bonehead brother didn't tell you about her." I shake my head and Shelly purses her lips. "Figures."

"Sharon is the reason for all of his recent troubles. She's this stunning fencer who competes on Belgium's women's team. Really talented and super model hot. She's the same age as Lucas. How cousin Roderick started fantasizing about her when they were only about fourteen is beyond me. Anyway, just before the last Olympics, she makes a play for Lucas and he falls hard. Hook line and sinker."

My gut twists. I know Lucas has been with lots of other women, but the idea bothers me.

Hearing about this Sharon Peeters chick makes me want to find my husband, and plaster kisses all over his body while I work his cock deep in my body, proving to him that I'm all he needs.

Down, cowgirl.

"I didn't know about any of it at the time. After things fell apart, I found out that he told our dad that he was planning on marrying her."

"Obviously he didn’t," Tessa says.

Shelly shakes her head and tucks a lock of long dark hair behind her ear.

"Worse. The morning of the Olympic finals, she not only dumps Lucas, but also reveals that she's actually married to the guy he was about to face! Her whole relationship with Lucas was nothing more than a ploy to give her boyfriend an edge if he and Lucas faced off."

"And it did?" This must have been the scandal I'd remembered the broadcasters talking about.

"Boy did it ever give him an edge. He annihilated Lucas in one of the shortest matches in the history of Olympic fencing. I'll tell you, Sharon really did her homework and got to know Lucas because had she dumped him just five minutes sooner, he would have had time to process the what had happened. He would have killed her boyfriend, instead of just standing there letting himself get poked by a shiny stick."

"Poor Lucas," Tessa murmurs. "Women like that are the ones that ruin good men for everyone else."

"It's been over a year now, and he still hasn't recovered," Shelly says. "It's like she sucked all the life out of him. Except for fencing and marrying Alexis, he hasn't done anything spontaneous, fun, or that could be considered even a little reckless. He's all work and no play."

I don't say anything, but I wonder if I work hard enough, and really devote myself to Lucas, if I can help him recover from the heartache Sharon Peeters put him through. And I can’t help but wonder if this Sharon is the reason I can’t make my husband laugh…

I resolve that if I ever happen to run into this Sharon Peeters, I’ll let her know exactly what I think of her.