Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
“How to say thank you for relocating Clive for me,” she finally said.
Something in his eyes changed. They warmed. What was he thinking?
Crap. Now, she had to come up with a way of thanking him.
“You want to thank me?”
“Of course. Um, would you like to come to dinner?”
Shoot.
She was supposed to be keeping a distance from him. It was dangerous for her to become close to him.
And she wasn’t talking about who he was or what he did.
She was talking about her feelings for him. Jilly was worried that the more time she spent with him . . . well, the more obvious it would become that she had a teensy-tiny crush.
Urgh.
At your age, you should no longer have crushes, Jilly.
That was true.
But tell that to the sixteen-year-old still living inside her who wanted this man to come in and sweep her off her feet. To tell her that life was going to be okay because he had her now.
And that she’d never have to attempt a spider eviction again because he’d be around to do that.
But Jilly knew how unreliable a man could be. She’d never had one who had stuck by her, who had even tried to protect her.
Protecting her heart from getting hurt should be her priority.
Yet, all of that logic seemed to fly out of her head when she was around him.
All she wanted was . . . him.
And she was worried that, too, would become evident.
Her shoulders hunched. It didn’t matter that she had invited him to dinner, he was hardly going to accept. Right?
Why would he? He was a busy, important man.
And she was nobody.
“I accept. When?”
“I, um, well . . .” Her brain short-circuited.
Sunday. You have Sundays off.
“Sunday night,” she blurted out.
“What time and what can I bring?”
Bring?
He wanted to bring something . . . to her dinner. That she had to cook.
Oh God! She’d just remembered something!
She couldn’t freaking cook.
“I, um, well . . . nothing! You shouldn’t bring anything. I’m supposed to be cooking to say thank you. And any time after six, I guess.”
That should give her time to make something. Surely.
Maybe she’d just buy something. That would be okay, right?
“I look forward to tasting your cooking.”
Well, rats. Buying something was out, then.
“Me too. I mean, uh, thanks.” Her shoulders slumped.
“I need to go and get rid of the spider before we have our tea.”
Tea?
Oh, shoot. She’d forgotten that he was staying for a cup of tea. And she had all that food downstairs to clean up.
“Sure. Thanks. Bye, Clive. Have a nice life.”
Ten minutes later, she had the kitchen in a semblance of order and the kettle was heating on the stove.
But when Regent walked back into the kitchen, he looked serious.
“I’m sorry, I have to get a rain check on the tea.”
“Oh sure, that’s okay. It will still be here when you, uh, well, when you next want some tea. Not the same tea, of course. I’d make you some fresh tea.”
Dear Lord.
Please let the earth open and swallow me whole. I beg you.
He walked over to her. To her shock, he put his hand over her forehead. She took a step back, but he reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Stop backing away from me. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I didn’t think you would,” she said. “I just . . . you took me by surprise, that’s all.”
“I just wanted to check that you weren’t running a fever.”
Right. Because she was babbling like an idiot.
“No, I’m fine. And you better go.”
“Are you sure you’re all right, Jilly? You would tell me if anything was wrong.”
That last sentence wasn’t a question. It was a demand. And somehow, she found herself nodding, even as she cursed herself for being an idiot.
“Sorry. It’s just . . . you make me nervous,” she told him.
“I can tell.”
Right. Because it was completely obvious.
“Nerves are expected. But being scared of me is not. Understand?”
“Yes. I, um . . . I’ll see you Sunday.”
“See you Sunday. Behave yourself. You have my number, use it if you need to.”
Yeah. She’d never used it before and she didn’t intend to do it now.
But she found herself nodding anyway.
11
Regent sat in a back booth in the dark. Victor sat beside him, while Jose was somewhere behind him.
“Why are we here again?” Victor asked. “We don’t need this guy.”
“I want to check in on him. It’s good for him to see me in person. Keep him in check and get a feel for him now that he’s settled in.”
Plus, he was curious about what he wanted.
“And you want to see that dancer, right? What was her name? Jingles? We gave her some contact details last time.”
“Yes, but perhaps she needs to see me to remember who is in charge around here. Just in case.” He had no reason to speak to her. But he wasn’t above a bit of intimidation.