Chapter 2
"Wow."
Alyson Finland dropped her luggage on the entrance of the chalet and stared. The place was gorgeous. The living room of the chalet was beautiful. It was mainly decorated in swatches of white fabric – perhaps the irony of a virginal wedding – across the sofas, chaise and lounge. The huge patio doors were opened and opposite the patio doors was an open aired kitchen and bar.
"Dear Ma'am, if you are done gazing at staring at the living room, is it possible that you can let me walk through? You're sort of blocking the entrance."
She turned and looked at one hell of an irritating-albeit-gorgeous male. Lucas Edwards. She nudged her luggage to the side and entered the living room to make space for him to walk in. He still wore a three-piece suit although they just landed about a half an hour ago on an island. He looked handsome, confident and could have been on a model shot of any fashion magazine.
If only he had an attitude that suited his outside looks.
"You don't have to be such a douche about it."
He just scowled and pulled his luggage in behind him. He walked towards the double doors straight ahead. She dragged her luggage and followed after him. In the three days that they have met, she had tried the brisk and professional way and the fun and cool-with-everything way to somehow crack his ice cool shell as to why he seemed to scowl or smirk every time they mention the game. Was there perhaps an inside joke she was missing?
He stopped in front of the doors and used one hand to push open the double doors. Wow. More white fabric. The bed sheets, linens, pillows and the four tiers of the bed were swathed in white. It was sort of fitting to the island actually. Very pretty and sweet. They both entered and placed their luggage on the floor and started removing their essentials and clothes from the bag.
Alyson pulled her hair up in a ponytail and gazed at Lucas next to her as he removed his toiletries. "Hey, do you have a problem with me?"
He cast her a cursory glance and then looked back at his luggage. "No."
"Then why do you keep having that stick up your ass that makes you scowl every time I mention the game. If we are going to be a happy engaged couple, I suggest you either remove that stick in your ass or just straight up burn it. Though I have a feeling that the latter would hurt more."
He nearly smiled at that. Nearly. "I don't have a problem with you. I just don't like the game. Besides, who ever said we had to be a 'happy' engaged couple? We very well can be the 'always-pissed-off-and-disagreeable' couple."
Alyson grabbed some of her shirts and shorts and stood up. She walked over to the wardrobe and grabbed some hangers that were hanging there and hung her clothes up. "Fine, we can be that but I prefer not to be. Come on, in the past three days, I've known more things about you than I have other people. The only thing we don't touch on is our jobs and that's because you don't want to tell me what you do for a living –" He cast her a look. "Okay, fine. I'm not prying but seeing as we have done the whole first date, second date and third date thing plus we played more than 20 questions simply to understand everything about each other, can't you be a bit nicer even if you don't like to play the game? We even came up with a fake proposal story!"
She was right. For a grown man of twenty-eight, he was ashamed to admit that he had been acting a little bit of a pain since he had been persuaded to join the game. Perhaps his mother was right, he needed a little fun. He had taken his dissatisfaction and placed it on Alyson because she was a constant reminder that he was sucked into a reality show that was literally far from reality. And the fact that they were lying about their relationship was already a strike one against Kensington Media's reality shows.
