Page 3 of Adrian

“Where are you planning to stay tonight, princess?”

“Stop calling me that,” I bark, spinning back around to pin him with a glare.

His brows lift. He’s smirking again. “Why are you even here? It’s obvious you come from money. I’m betting you went to an Ivy League college and have a fancy degree in something useful like business management. What brought you to the middle of nowhere?”

“That’s none of your business, Mr. Fancy Pants. I could say the same about you.” I let my gaze wander up and down his frame. Damn, he’s fine. He keeps getting better. I bet there’s a six-pack under that expensive flannel. I wish it weren’t unbuttoned at the collar so far that I can see the top of his chest. It’s hard for me to focus on anything else.

Adrian Gallant is a real man. Not a boy. He’s got hair on his chest. It’s sexy as fuck. Great… I jerk my attention up to his eyes, but now one corner of his lips is lifted because he saw me ogling him.

I’m seconds from fanning myself. I need to get a grip.

Squaring myself, I stand as tall as I can. “I take that back. I bet you own a designer tux, but I doubt you wear it regularly. I’ll call you Mr. Fancy Jeans.”

He laughs again, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “Sure. Now, answer my first question, princess. Are you planning to stay in this house tonight?”

“Yes.” It’s true. The realtor didn’t specifically tell me this structure isn’t safe.

He glances at my SUV. “You got that thing loaded down with your belongings?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all you brought up here? No U-Haul?”

“No, I didn’t bring a moving van, Mr. Fancy Jeans. I wanted to start fresh. I didn’t own anything I wanted to bring with me. Planned to build a new life. What was I going to do with a four-poster pink bed with a canopy?”

His brows shoot higher than before as he stares at me.

I hold my expression for as many seconds as possible before breaking into a chuckle. “Kidding. I don’t own a canopied bed. Well, I mean, I did when I was five, but not recently.”

He blows out a relieved breath. “Well, you can’t stay here, and trust me when I say you don’t want to stay in town. The only place to rent is the efficiency apartment over the mechanic’s shop. It’s a dump. I’ve seen it. That leaves the nearest city, or my place.”

My body jerks as I process everything he just said, ending with suggesting I stay at his place. Is that what he said?

Two

Adrian

* * *

What the fuck am I thinking? Did I just offer this woman a place to stay? Why the hell would I do such a thing? I know nothing about her. She’s mysterious. I assume she’s harmless, but on top of that, she’s not playing with a full deck.

Did she honestly show up today, thinking she would move into this dilapidated piece of shit? Did she not see how unsound it was when she visited the property before buying? Maybe she didn’t actually visit. She could have bought it sight unseen.

She’s shaking her head. “Surely this place can’t be as bad as you say.”

I reach for one of the posts that’s holding up the awning over the small porch and give it a shake. The column easily moves, and the awning creaks as it threatens to collapse.

Probably not one of my best moves since we’re standing under it, but I have the sense to stop without causing too much damage. “Blair, I wouldn’t trust the electrical wiring for one minute. If you turned on the stove or the heat, the place would probably catch on fire. And the water? Please don’t drink it. I wouldn’t bathe in it.”

I can’t decide whether she’s stubborn or stupid. Well, not stupid, but ignorant about architectural safety. Probably both.

She swallows as she stares at me. I think I’m getting through to her.

“On top of that, there’s supposed to be a storm tonight.”

“There is?”

This woman did not look at a weather report…