Page 26 of Mr. Romantic (Mister 2)

Ah, so she’s not that scared. She’s pushing for answers. Good. “Because you’re beautiful and I want to have dinner with a beautiful woman tonight. Are you seeing anyone? Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Mr. Delaney—”

“Nolan,” I correct her. “Call me Nolan. You’re not here at dinner as a candidate, Ivy. You’re here as my date. So let’s stick with first names, OK?”

“You didn’t really ask me on a date, Nolan.”

“No? I thought I did. And you’re here, so it must be true.”

“To answer your question, yes. I do have a boyfriend.”

“I don’t believe you,” I say back.

“What?” Ivy laughs, but it’s an uncomfortable laugh. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because if you did have a boyfriend you’d be on the phone with him tonight, telling him all about how inappropriate the Delaney clan is.”

“I was, actually. I told him all about it. He’s expecting me home tomorrow afternoon, so I hope you have that jet all fueled up and ready.”

“It won’t be, Ivy. So relax. And you don’t have a boyfriend. I can tell. I’m good at that.”

“His name’s Richard, Mr. Delaney.” She scoots her chair back and places her napkin on the table, but I grab her wrist and hold it down.

“Sit,” I say.

“Let go.”

“No. Now sit and relax and tell me that the boyfriend was a lie so we can enjoy ourselves.”

“You really are something. Your sister was right. I should stay far, far away from you.”

“Forget my sister, Ivy. Don’t you want to learn the truth about me? Learn some secrets, maybe? Secrets very few people know?”

“No,” she says forcefully. But she sits back down. Which is a yes, in my book. “I don’t, actually. I think that what they wrote about you ten years ago was probably all true.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” I say. “Because they left out all the interesting stuff.”

“I can see you’re a man used to getting what he wants, but I’m a woman who is well-practiced in the art of saying no.”

“I bet you are,” I say with a small laugh. “Preacher’s daughter. All-girls’ boarding school. Still living close to home.”

“What are you doing?” she snaps.

“Intriguing you, Ivy. I’m making you curious.”

“You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“Same thing,” I joke.

She shakes her head and blows out a loud breath of air. “Why didn’t you send me home tonight?”

“So we could have dinner. And talk. And fuck. And talk some more.”

She is speechless. Her mouth is opening and closing, opening and closing, but no words make it past those beautiful plump lips.

“So relax, enjoy it. And if you really want to say no when I start taking your clothes off, I’ll back away. I’m not a rapist, Ivy. And if you think I am, then you’re not as smart as that résumé makes you out to be.”

She scowls at my words but stays silent.