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“Paid upfront?” she echoes.
“If you want me to convince your brother that you, poor, unloved Elise, didn’t have any choice but to give that speech at the meeting, then you need to do something for me first.”
She blushes, and I don’t correct the dirty thoughts she might be having. “And that is?”
“My parents and I are invited to a charity dinner hosted by my dad’s biggest client, Pieter van Vollenhoven, and I’d like you to join me.”
She blinks owlishly, surprised. “Me?”
“No, I meant the Pope. Yes, you! You seem out of sorts, my dear.”
Elise scowls, and it almost seems like she wants to stick her tongue out at me, but resists. “Why wouldn't you take Jessica with you?”
“I’m meeting a member of the royal family and you want me to bring my fuck buddy?” I chuckle. “No. Jess is lovely for normal outings, but you’re part of a noble family. It will be much better for my image.”
She huffs. “So you’re using me for your image?”
I take a long drink of my tea, the aromatics filling my senses. “Well, in a way, aren’t you doing the same? Using me to save your image with your brother?”
“Hmm…” Elise swirls the tea as she thinks, tapping her fingernails on the glass. “Okay, I’ll do it. It will be good PR for me, anyway. When is it?”
I grin wickedly. “This Saturday.”
“What!?” Elise is irritated, which only adds to my amusement.
“I’ll pick you up at seven, little ice queen. Make sure you dress to impress.”
She’s silent for a long time then, simply drinking and scowling, but eventually she says, “You should know by now I always impress.”
8
Amsterdam, April 30, 2022
Dan
It sounds idiotic,but pulling up to Elise’s apartment makes me feel like I’m taking her to an American prom like you see in the movies. We’ve never been on a date, and if Andries has his way, we never will, so this night is a special thing for me to hold close to my heart. That doesn’t excuse how nervous I am, though, or how hard my heart is beating.
I’ve been with countless women, and consider myself a great lover. Beautiful women don’t make me nervous, unless they are Elise Van den Bosch, apparently.
When I arrive outside of her place, she texts me letting me know the door is unlocked and to let myself in. I want to scold her for taking such a risk, but when she descends the stairs like an angel from heaven, all of my thoughts dissipate like petals on the wind.
Elise is… everything. I’m so royally fucked, tempting myself with having her by my side all night. How will I keep my wits about me?
She’s wearing rose gold silk that fits her body and curves to perfection, the sweetheart neckline showing the swell of her breasts just enough that it makes my mouth go dry. It’s sleeveless, flaring out only minutely below her knees. The dress is simple enough to almost be considered understated, but the woman wearing it elevates the garment to a whole new level.
And then, because fate somehow thinks I need another thing to obsess over all night, she steps a certain way down the stairs and one long, glistening leg peeks out from a slit in her skirt.
I’m a dead man.
I’m finally able to look at her face and the way her long hair is curled softly and caught in a delicate matching rose gold clip. Her lush lips are a dusky rose, and a part of me is furious thinking about smudging that lipstick off her mouth with my own.
When I realize Elise has been standing directly in front of me, silently, for at least a solid minute, I feel like sinking into the ground with embarrassment. I feel like a teenager again.
“Did you lose your tongue, or what?” she teases, and my mind is so scattered that I don’t even know what retort I give. All I know is that she loops her arm with mine and lets me lead her out to the car.
“You look nice, too,” she offers once we’re in the vehicle. I’d gone simple, my black suit tailored close to my body, the only flash of color the vintage opal cufflinks at my wrists.
“Thanks,” I tell her, trying to keep my tone even. “But I don’t think anyone is even going to realize I’m there tonight.”
