Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Do the British police arrest people for kissing?”
He moves around the driver’s side, and I mirror him, opening the passenger door.
“No, but I’m afraid of what I might convince you to do if we keep going.”
I have to press my lips together to stop myself from smiling. I like that he feels a little out of control with me. I can’t imagine it happens a lot for Ben.
We slide into our seats and resume our journey in comfortable silence. The countryside is beautiful, but it creates an ache for home inside me I haven’t felt for a long time. I glance across at Ben.
Ben. Ben. Ben.
When I was with Jed, I don’t ever remember feeling as special as I do with Ben. The way he looks at me, like he’s stunned he’s lucky enough to be near me. The way he kisses me, like he just can’t get enough. The way he holds me, like I’m precious. I’ve never felt that before.
Ben’s words echo in my memory. Don’t say yes to anything you don’t want.
Did I ever want Jed? Or did he just want me?
One thing I know for sure is that I want Ben.
My phone beeps with a message and I open it.
“It’s the duchess,” I say, skimming the message. “She’s inviting us to dinner with her and the duke on Saturday at their town house.”
I glance across at Ben, but he’s unreadable.
“I’d be happy to continue our . . . fake engagement if you want to go,” I offer.
“I can’t ask you to do that,” he says. “I’ve already taken up too much of your time. You’re meant to be focusing on work.”
“For a start, you didn’t ask, I offered. And second, I like the duke and duchess. If you didn’t know already, I kinda like you too. An evening with the four of us sounds fun.”
He shakes his head. “Always wanting to please someone.”
My stomach sinks into my seat. It wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.
“Is it what you want?” Ben asks.
“I just said so, didn’t I? But if you want to take some other woman with a straightforward coffee order, then . . .” I shrug. “I guess that’s life.”
Ben’s gaze stays on the road. “If you’re sure you’re happy to do dinner on Saturday as my fiancée, I would appreciate it. It’s the last time I’ll ask, I promise,” he says.
“Happy as a clam,” I say, ignoring the bit about the last time. I don’t want to think about saying goodbye to Ben. “On one condition. You drop the idea of paying me for this weekend.”
He growls, but nods. “And then what?” he says.
“Then what what?”
“When do you go back to New York?”
“Three weeks.”
He pushes his hand through his hair and shakes his head. “So you have three weeks left in London, then you’ll be in New York.”
I laugh because he’s repeating what I just said, and not because he doesn’t understand. Then the penny drops. He’s having trouble asking me out. “Do you want to hang out again? Just the two of us?” I ask. “Maybe . . . ask me to dinner?”
He meets my gaze and nods.
He might be the most adorable man in the history of adorable men. I slide my palm up to his cheek and grin at him. “Good,” I say. “I’m going to say yes, because I want to hang out with you too.”
I expect to see a flicker of a smile on his lips, but instead he stays focused on the road ahead of us, sliding his hand onto my thigh.
Eventually he nods as if he’s been assimilating everything for the last few minutes. “Dinner,” he says. “Good.”
Adorable.
Chapter Twenty
My phone rings, interrupting a delicious dream I’m having about a very naked Ben, which I’m hoping is prophetic given I’m seeing him tonight for the first time since we came back to London. Squinting, I find the button to answer and then shut my eyes again.
“Hey,” I say, not knowing who I’m talking to.
“How’s my favorite Anglophile?”
“Melanie?” I ask, and I open my eyes. I haven’t spoken to her since before the weekend away, and we have so much to catch up on. “What time is it?”
“Time you were awake. There are sights to see, Daniel De Luca to track down. I have some intel. He’s on location, filming in Central London and staying at a hotel. Do you have a pad and paper?”
I sit up and glance around. Hotels always have a pen and paper somewhere, don’t they? “Hang on, let me find one.” I grab the flimsy pad of paper and pencil from by my bed and scribble down the name of the hotel where Daniel De Luca is supposed to be staying.
“I’ve missed you.” My old life comes tumbling back into focus. Sadness and relief mix in my stomach. “How are the girls?” I ask. “How were Friday night cocktails?”