Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
That was it. I was determined not to look in his direction again. I wouldn’t even think about that chiseled jaw, those blue eyes and large hands that fit so deliciously in the small of my back. No siree.
I scribbled furiously for the rest of the presentation, completely focused on what was being said. The prince talked passionately about Finland and the environment and how the charitable causes being supported through this competition were important to his entire family.
As he stepped off the podium, everyone stood and applauded.
While I was clapping, there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned and found myself face-to-face with Dexter.
So much for pretending he didn’t exist.
“Hollie,” he said. “Good to see you again.”
“Hi,” I said as breezily as I could manage. “Great speech, right?”
“Inspiring,” he said, grinning at me as if I’d said something hilarious.
I glanced around, checking that no one from Sparkle was scowling at me for fraternizing with the competition, but no one was paying any attention to me. I turned back to him, staring at his Adam’s apple as if looking him in the eye would turn me to stone—mush more likely. “So, I didn’t call,” I said, feeling awkward at our closeness and slightly ridiculous not meeting his gaze.
“I figured you must have mislaid my card,” he said.
I rolled my eyes, irritated at his arrogance, and finally looked him in the eye. This guy didn’t have the power to turn me to mush. He overestimated himself, just like most men, and I wasn’t going to indulge him. “Nope. I know it’s hard to believe, but there are women in this world who actually don’t want to have dinner with you.”
He paused, his grin never faltering. “I can think of a number of women who fit that description. But you’re not one of them.”
Was this guy for real? I’d refused to give him my number, for crying out loud. And I hadn’t called him. Why would he assume I wanted to have dinner with him? “It must be the way I keep calling and texting you that has you thinking like that,” I said, folding my arms.
He chuckled, and a voice in my head told me to turn and walk away. This guy was trouble. Not because he was cocky but because he was right. I did want to have dinner with him. And I didn’t like that he knew that.
“Nope. Not that,” he replied.
“Is it the way I sent you panties in the mail?”
“They were from you?” he asked, and I had to bite back a smile when I rolled my eyes this time. “I’ve not quite worked out why you didn’t call, but I know it’s not because you don’t want to have dinner with me.”
“Actually, I don’t,” I replied. A pit started to form in my gut at the prospect of him taking me at my word, and finding some other woman to badger about going to dinner.
I liked being that woman.
“I don’t find you attractive. I’m not into British guys.”
He nodded as if he were carefully considering my words. “Give me your phone.”
I pulled out my brand-new company mobile. I swear, I had never touched anything that expensive. I bet Dexter was going to check if I’d saved his number—to use that as proof I really did want to go on a date with him. “Here,” I said, having unlocked it.
He scrolled through my four contacts, and I waited for him to hand it back with his tail between his legs when he saw he wasn’t listed. His phone started to ring and he ignored it, then passed me back my phone. “There,” he said. “Now I have your number and mine is saved in your phone. This way I get to convince you to have dinner with me.”
Well, he wasn’t lacking in confidence.
“Have you heard of the Me Too movement?” I asked. “You know no means no.”
He pulled away from me just a fraction and, holding my gaze, blinked once. Then twice. “Hollie, sexual harassment is something to be taken seriously. If you’re uncomfortable, tell me now and I’ll delete your number and walk away. If we’re flirting, having fun, and for some reason you’re a little scared to come to dinner with me and need some convincing, then that’s another matter.”
My head buzzed with heat. I needed to flee from this place as if it were on fire. Dexter had an answer for everything and seemed to have the measure of me. More reasons to run for the hills. I kept telling myself I didn’t want to be distracted by some guy in London, but the truth was, I had a sinking feeling Dexter wasn’t just some guy. “A lot of convincing,” I corrected him. Darn. I hadn’t meant to show him a chink in my armor. I’d meant to tell him I was absolutely not interested in him and that I didn’t want him to call.