Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 156029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Robert walks away, and Spencer’s eyes fall to my face.
“Why are you here, Mr Spencer?” I ask him.
He smiles softly and leans towards the table, steepling his hands under his chin. “I wanted to see you.”
“Why?”
“You’re on my mind.”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
I like that he wanted to see me.
Our drinks arrive and we both sit in relative silence, neither of us knowing what to say.
“How old are you, Charlotte?” he asks softly.
“I think I answered that question before. Too young for you, Mr Spencer.” I smile over at him.
“Well, I’m twenty-five,” he says seriously. “With thirteen years’ experience.”
I do the maths. He’s thirty-eight.
“And I’m twenty- four… with no experience.”
His eyes twinkle with delight. Maybe he thought I was younger than that.
We sip our drinks in an uncomfortable silence, once again.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.”
He frowns as he tries to articulate himself. “And you’re not secretly in love with your bodyguard?”
“Certainly not. You’ve been watching too many movies, Mr Spencer.” I laugh.
He puts his hand on his chest, faking his relief. “That’s good to hear. I can’t compete with bodyguards and shit like that.” He winks at me. “Although I do practice karate.”
We both chuckle and our eyes linger on each other’s. There is this mutual affection between us. For me, it’s that he speaks so unguarded, as though he already knows me, but maybe it’s just all his experience with women that make him this way. He’s not nervous around me like most men, and his confidence is very attractive.
I would give anything to know what’s on his mind.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“That depends.” He leans forward.
“On what?”
“I’m running a risk assessment in my mind as to whether I’m going to get beaten to a pulp if I kiss you.”
I smile bashfully.
It would be worth it.
The moment is broken by the waiter returning with our bottle of wine. He pops the cork and pours a little into both our wineglasses.
“Thank you.” I take a sip. “Hmm.” I eye the glass of burgundy liquid. “That’s nice.”
Spencer holds his glass in the air. “A toast.”
“To what?” I ask.
His eyes hold mine. “Our first date.”
I smile softly.
“May there be many more,” he whispers darkly, clinking his glass to mine before he takes a sip. “You know I wrote your name in my diary on Monday morning.”
I smile. “Why?’
“Because when I want something, I write it down.” He smirks.
I giggle. “That not at all creepy.”
He chuckles.
I take a mouthful of wine and think for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Why would you drive all the way out here to see me without calling first?”
“Because I knew if I called you that you wouldn’t want to see me.”
His eyes drop to my lips, and then back up to my eyes with a hunger I haven’t felt before. The air between us becomes electric. God, the way he looks at me sets me on fire.
“Has someone hurt you in the past?” he asks.
I stare at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Physically, has someone hurt you?”
“What? No.” I frown. “Why would you say that?”
“You seemed frightened of me on Saturday night.”
I drop my head in embarrassment. I know he means when I felt his erection. It terrified me if I’m honest, and I hate that he sensed it.
“I didn’t know where my father’s guards were,” I whisper. “I don’t do that sort of thing in public.”
His eyes hold mine, and he reaches over the table to take my hand in his. “What about in private, Charlotte? What sort of thing do you do in private?”
We stare at each other for a moment. What can I say here without sounding promiscuous? “Private things,” I whisper.
“I should like to spend time with you in private sometime.”
I sit back, affronted by his gall. “Are you here simply for sex, Mr Spencer?”
He frowns. “Stop calling me that.”
“It’s your name, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but you call me that when you are pushing me away.”
“I’m merely asking you a question. There was no pushing involved.”
“I’m attracted to you, yes.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“Am I here only for sex? No. Have I wondered what it would be like to have intimate relations with you? Yes.”
Intimate relations.
My breath catches as I stare at him. He is the first man in my entire life who has had the guts to come onto me, and I find myself fighting a smile. “Why?”
“You’re beautiful and different than most women.”
“So, you only pursue beautiful women?” I ask. “I’m curious as to what makes a man like you tick, that’s all.” I shrug, hoping that I haven’t just crossed a line.
He smiles and takes my hand over the table again. “Ask me anything you want. I have nothing to hide. I’m very honest. Perhaps too honest.”
“Then do you only date beautiful women?” I ask again. God, how did we get onto this subject?