Page 79 of Watching Her

“Yes, he does.” In the days now turning into weeks of feeling as if I’d been watched, I wasn’t entirely certain how to deal with the invitation. Yes, I was eager to see him again. What girl wouldn’t be after being swept off her feet, but the noise inside my head suggested his actions weren’t entirely on the up and up.

“Maybe something is wrong.”

“A ‘mystery date’ sounds romantic in movies, but in reality, it just means I don’t know if I’m going to be underdressed or murdered.”

“Now who’s being highly dramatic? He didn’t drag you into the hotel’s pool after ravishing your body the other night. Right? If you’re worried about him finding your address, anyone with money can do that easily, girl. Come on. Or he could have contacted his buddy and found out.”

“On his honeymoon?”

She grinned, handing the invitation back to me. “If he’s that interested, why not?” A few seconds later, she laughed. “Don’t let what I said about psycho boy bother you. You don’t use your real name in your new chosen profession. But you told Mr. Tempest your name. Right?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And he does live in the same city.”

As always, she was right. “True.” The word had a more lilting tone than before.

“A rose. Sending a car? A mystery date? Come on, girl. This is what fantasies are made of. You of all people should know that by now.”

Her logic was sound. “You’re right. Now, the real crisis.”

“Which is?”

“What in the hell do I wear to a mystery date?”

Every time she offered one of her sinful grins, I knew I was in for trouble. “That you can leave to me. Come on. Let’s get started.”

My friend was right. The invitation and all the mystery surrounding the man, his personality, and the date could be considered the perfect fantasy.

Only even in dark romances, there was always the villain determined to destroy all happiness. I only prayed I hadn’t fallen headfirst into a dark cloud of evil I’d never dig my way out of.

CHAPTER 18

Penelope

Christian had suggested I wear something comfortable but elegant, which was a cruel paradox. Was he taking me to a rooftop dinner or a surprise helicopter ride? That’s the kind of date rich guys preferred. Right? Part of me hated not being in control, but another part was brimming with excitement.

What little I knew about the man suggested he was adventurous.

Yes, I’d taken the time to research him on the internet for a second time before the big date. There truly was almost nothing personal about him, which should make me suspicious, but I’d reminded myself all the richest people in the world hired top level security companies to keep their worlds private.

When I opened the door, I expected to see a driver standing in a staunch-looking uniform, guiding me toward some massive limousine.

“You’re late,” I told him.

Christian checked his watch, lifting an eyebrow as he did. “You’re right. Five minutes. However, at least for me, the wait was well worth the loss of precious time spent. You are exquisite.”

Yes, a girl could swoon around someone like him. “You’re forgiven. This time.” When I glanced from one side of his massive body to the other, his eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” Christian asked soon after I’d opened the door.

“Where’s your man?” I asked, teasing him even when I still felt somewhat overwhelmed.

Yet I held his gaze as I had every time, refusing to allow him to know he could still make me tremble.

Leaning against the doorframe, he looked like a walking advertisement for bad decisions. The good kind. He had that half-smile on his face, the one that proved he knew exactly how good he looked in his fine Corinthian leather jacket.

“My man? I wasn’t aware I had a man.” His gaze was a physical weight, tracing a slow, deliberate line down my body. I held my breath, every point where his eyes lingered warming under the sudden intensity. It felt as if he were undressing me without a single touch, leaving me dizzy and entirely at his mercy.