Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
“You must be talking about the endless middle-aged women that look like sugar plum fairies gone wrong.”
A sharp bark of laughter erupts, his hand still holding mine. I can feel Thomas’s stupid grin on me. For God’s sake. “Very good,” Holcot says. “I’m Edward.”
“Camryn. And for the record, it is most definitely politically incorrect.”
“And such a shame too, don’t you think? That a man can’t tell a lady that she’s beautiful.”
I haven’t been called beautiful in a very long time. Until Dec. Tonight, I’m putting it down to the dress. But when I encountered Dec in the bar at The Royal Constantine, I wasn’t glammed up. So what drew him to me? “It’s deemed leery these days, Edward.”
“Tell me about it. I have to think before I say anything for fear of being sued to high heaven.”
I smile. “I won’t sue you.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” He chinks my glass with his, and Thomas laughs loudly, in his fucking element.
We chat casually for a while, and if Thomas cracked his jokes, they went way over my head. But I’m running out of steam, my social battery draining fast after being redundant for so long. “Would you excuse me?” I say, moving away from the men, set to go and recharge in the ladies’ and assess just how much longer I have to be here.
Edward Holcot smiles. “I’d say it’s been an absolute, unexpected pleasure but, again . . .”
“Charming,” I say, leaving after forcing one more smile, but as I lift my eyes, something across the room stops me dead in my tracks and has me forgetting where I am, why I’m here, and that I’m running out of steam.
And, Jesus, he looks spectacular in a tuxedo. His eyes find mine, and though there’s nothing there to tell me what he’s thinking—classic Dec—I know he’s spotted me before now.
I tilt my head in question.
He tilts his.
And after a few moments of sizzling eye contact, he makes his way over, coming to a stop before me, a glass held lightly between his fingertips. He’s such a sight for sore eyes. “Evening.” The deep, husky timbre gets beneath the material of my dress and rests on my skin.
“Evening.”
“Fancy seeing you here.”
“Fancy seeing you here,” I reply coolly, spotting and loving the minuscule tilt of his mouth at the corner as he takes a sip of his drink. His gorgeous grey eyes keep me rooted to the spot.
“I noticed a certain dashing Edward Holcot sniffed you out.”
I look over my shoulder, seeing the harem of women are all back around him like flies around shit. “He’s a charmer.”
“Be careful with him, Camryn,” Dec warns lightly, bringing my interested eyes back to him.
“Jealous?”
“Wildly,” he answers, unabashed. “Were you going somewhere?”
“I was just escaping to the ladies’.”
“Escaping?”
“He’s not my cup of tea.”
“What’s your cup of tea?”
“I think you know the answer to that.”
His heavy brow smooths out as his eyebrows lift. “Me.”
I hum, taking a sip of my drink.
“Do you still want to escape?”
I shake my head, saying all the things without saying them. No. No, I don’t. Not now you’re here.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m taking that as a resounding yes.” Dec nods toward the bar, and we both wander through the crowds to the quieter side. “Two dirty martinis, please.”
“Only champagne and beer are included in the open bar, sir.”
“I’ll pay.” He pushes his card across and faces me, making no bones about drinking me in, up and down. “You look beautiful.”
“So do you.”
He nods mildly, thoughtfully as he reaches for my cheek, stopping himself before he feels at it. Checking my cut, that’s got more concealer on it than I’ve used all year. “How’s it been for you?”
“This evening?” I ask, and he nods. “I could think of better places to be.” Like in a hotel bar, any hotel bar, with Dec sitting next to me talking about everything but nothing, being silent from time to time. Nearly kissing me again. “My boss roped me in. It’s been challenging.”
“How so?”
“I had a call with the company accountant today. It’s all a bit of a mess, and in truth, I’m not sure how to handle it.”
“What’s the problem?”
“My boss is shit with money.”
“It’s your job to handle the finances.”
“Tell him that,” I quip, virtually smelling the martinis as the waiter pushes them toward us.
Dec picks one up, takes my elderflower drink, and replaces it with my favourite. “Drink up.”
I reach for the other on the bar and hand it to him, and he shows his amusement as he takes it, holding his glass toward me. “What are we drinking to?” I ask.
Tapping his glass with mine, he comes close to my face, his mouth at my ear. “I’ll tell you later,” he whispers. It feels as if a missile could have hit me in the chest, the force of my exhale audible, as the warmth of his breath creeps across my skin. “Don’t leave without me.” A light squeeze of my wrist before he wanders away, leaving me a shaky wreck, my drink jumping up the side of my glass. It’s not long before I lose him in the crowds, and the loss hits me deep.