open. I toed it the rest of the way and breezed inside, flicking the lights on.
And what I saw stopped me in my tracks.
Court Kensington’s naked body laid out facedown like Adonis on his pure white sheets. His bare ass visible for the world to see.
I swallowed.
I’d seen some gorgeous bodies before. I worked as a celebrity publicist, for Christ’s sake. It was part of the job description. We dealt with asshole rock stars, entitled actors, and everything in between. I’d paid off prostitutes and thrown away condoms so they couldn’t be used as evidence and seen more dick and pussy that I wasn’t fucking than I needed to see in a lifetime. And still, Court made me come to a screeching halt.
Fuck, he was hot.
I hated that he was hot.
That he was the kind of grade A asshole I’d been all over before I met Josh. Before Josh …
I ground my teeth. Just the thought of what he’d done to me brought me straight back to reality. Nothing like finding out your movie-star husband was fucking his costar to ruin your morning.
“Court, get your ass out of bed.”
He tilted his head to the side, squinting up at me through a vision of long lashes. “English?” he groaned.
“That’d be me,” I said. “We need to talk.”
He blinked a few times and then propped himself up on his elbow. “What time is it?”
“Almost eight.”
“In the morning?” he asked blearily.
“Yes. Now put on some fucking clothes. I’ve had a really long night, and I would like to get this over with.”
“Can we do this some other time?” he asked as he pulled the pillow back over his head.
“Does it look like I’m fucking around?”
He peered back up at me. I didn’t know what he saw, what degree of not-taking-your-shit was on my face, but he nodded. “Fine.”
I hustled back out of his bedroom, trying to clear the vision of that muscular ass from my mind. I knew he’d take his sweet time. So, I brewed a pot of coffee. Because what I really needed was more caffeine in my system.
He came out fifteen minutes later in a pair of black joggers. He pulled a white T-shirt on over his head as he walked into the living room. His six-pack still visible for the few seconds before the material fell over his stomach.
He tousled his dark hair and quirked a smile at me. “That for me?”
“Here,” I said, handing him a mug of coffee.
“So, what’s this all about?” he asked around a yawn.
I set my empty mug on the counter. “What in the actual fuck were you thinking last night?”
“What do you mean?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You went to an underground gambling ring. The party was raided by the police. You barely made it out in time.”
“Oh … yeah. I mean, I hadn’t expected the party to get raided,” he said with a shrug.
“You went to an underground gambling ring!” I cried. “Need I remind you that you were recently arrested with your girlfriend for fraud and grand larceny? That the only reason I was hired was to keep you out of trouble, to show the world a softer side of Court Kensington? So that you don’t ruin your mother’s reelection campaign for mayor of New York?”
“First of all, there were no charges against me. And second, Jane isn’t my girlfriend.”
“She was at the time, and literally no one else cares that you weren’t charged. They see you as the train wreck who doesn’t care about crime. While your mother is tough on crime. If you’d been arrested last night, can you even imagine the consequences?”
Court shrugged. “It would have been fine. You’re blowing the whole thing out of proportion.”
“Am I?” I asked. “I would have lost my job. Lark likely would have lost her job. Your mother would lose the primary run. And you, you’d be right back where you started before you had me. We’d lose all ground.”
“Fine. Whatever. I messed up.” He set the mug down on the coffee table. His blue eyes had shuttered, gone cold. “Can I go back to sleep now?”
“No. You didn’t just fuck up. You royally fucked up. You took the one weekend I was out of town and fucking did this on purpose, Court!”
“I didn’t know…”
“But you didn’t leave either!” I snapped back. “You saw it was illegal and played poker all night. Lark had to drag you out of there, and you didn’t even want to leave.”
“Okay. I get it. Fuck, English. I