Page 15 of The Prince Who Loved Me

Would he still say that if he realized his former dates had also claimed the place? “So you come here often?”

“A few times a month, at least. Good food, good service.” He reached across the table and lay his hand on hers. “Good company.”

Okay, so he had used a repeated line earlier. That didn’t mean he wasn’t being sincere. Maybe those women were wrong. Maybe it was his way of breaking the ice.

Maybe she should stop being Old Brandi, eagerly accepting his lies.

Conversation moved to the latest movies and bingeworthy TV shows, even about inheritance taxes.

Guess Grandma wasn’t too far from her mind. Or the contents of that envelope.

The waitstaff cleared the table and refilled their drinks. Cris shifted in his seat and dropped his gaze. “I have to tell you something.”

She put down her napkin. “What is it?”

“I like you, Brandi. Tonight’s been a great date. But I’m in this to find a relationship.” Eyes intent, he pierced her with his oh-so-sincere gaze. “If you’re here to hook up and then never talk to me again, I wish you well, but I’m not for you.”

His words sent dread barreling to her lasagna-filled stomach. That bastard. But the woman in the bathroom was right. Who wouldn’t fall for that line, that delivery? “That’s so… wow, so… I don’t know what to say.”

His lips curved into a smarmy smile.

Brandi continued. “It’s so wrong.”

The shocked look on his face was almost comical. “Wrong?”

“I mean, I’m glad you told me. You should have told me sooner. I didn’t mean to waste your time.” She stood up and Cris followed. “I was looking for a good and sweaty night of almost anonymous sex, with no strings. Well, maybe satin strings. I appreciate your honesty. Some men would use that line as a lie to get a woman into bed, but I can tell you’re being sincere.”

He visibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing along his neck. “You mean you would have been okay with—”

She made her voice low and throaty. “Oh, yeah. I even painted my toenails and shaved my…” she trailed off and slid her fingers a few inches down the neckline made possible by hermother’s advice. “I know you’ll meet the right woman one day, Cris. You have a lot to offer. Just because I wanted a one-night fuck doesn’t mean that all women do. Better luck next time.”

She added extra sway to her hips in her tight skirt as she made her way to the bar. How would she know the women from the bathroom?

Valicente’s bartender placed a shot of clear liquid in front of her and nodded toward a small group huddled at the end.

“They’re waiting for you,” she said.

***

Sebastien relaxed on the overstuffed chair tucked in the corner of the library as Brandi wore a path between the protective barrier of the Chippendale secretary and the Queen Anne-style desk, recounting her date. It was after the ten o’clock cut off time for her and Wendy to be on the family floor upstairs, when guests could contact them only in an emergency.

He was surprised when she had knocked on his door, too full of energy to stay cooped up with her mother already sleeping on her small bed. She had changed from sexy vixen into her more comfortable jeans and t-shirt, but she could be wearing a monk’s robe and he’d still want to kiss her. Unwilling to test his control by having her in his room, he suggested a covert trek to the library.

“And then,” she said, “he texted me saying he was willing to forgo his commitment to commitment and hook up. I ignored it.” She tucked herself at the end of the oversized chair. “Thank goodness for those women.”

“How did they know you’d be in the restroom?” He scooted his legs over, pleased she hadn’t chosen to sit on the plush brown sofa.

“Apparently they were there the whole time. Once I wason my way, the bartender texted them and they put their moves into action.”

“So this guy was bringing dates there every night, and the bartender told on him?”

“She kept getting slimy feelings, so she causally mentioned to Cris’s current date how often he was at the restaurant with the slew of different women. The movement grew.” She held out her phone against the arm of the paisley-patterned chair. “We exchanged numbers and now I’m on bar rotation. He really missed out. These are some great women.”

“Maybe you should set me up with one of them.” Sebastien kept his tone dry. One who was about five eight, had different colored eyes, and been the object of his desires for the past forever.

“Maybe I will, once I get to know them better. I’m surprised you don’t have anyone in your life, Sebastien. You’re quite a catch.” She tapped his kneecap and pointed at him. “I know what the problem is.”

All she had to do was look in a mirror. “Please tell.”