Right Number, Wrong Girl

“It’s a lot to take in, but like I said, I’ll help you figure it all out. Okay?” I tilted her head back and held her gaze steadily with mine.

Her head jerked. “Okay,” she whispered.

God. I wanted to kiss her so badly.

She was so bloody beautiful, even with uncertainty and frustration swirling in her eyes. Or maybe that added to it—made her even more beautiful with a fire in her eyes.

I was unbelievably, annoyingly attracted to this woman.

It might be the death of me.

Especially because I knew that doing something about that attraction would be very, very wrong.

Not that it stopped me wanting to. In fact, it only fuelled the desire to do something about it.

I was rather used to getting my way. I was sure that wouldn’t matter to Sophie one bit, given how she’d already handed me my arse once.

That said, not even she could deny that there was a little something between us. A little fizzle, a spark, a tiny jolt of a connection that had been there from the second I’d deliberately nudged into her at the pub.

I wanted to see if that spark would come to anything bigger.

An explosion, perhaps.

Sophie swallowed, and her gaze flickered to my mouth before she took a step back and broke the contact between us. “We should get back before someone comes looking for us. We don’t really have an excuse to be this far out.”

“You’re right.” I cleared my throat and waited for her to leave, then closed the door behind me. Sunlight danced off the lake, and a ray of it glinted over Sophie’s face when she turned to look out at the water.

Shit.

I was in so much trouble with her.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN – SOPHIE

Wine + Hot Guy = Oopsie

“This is not a date,” I said to Caitlyn. “It’s a working dinner.”

She gave me an impish grin that made her eyes light up. “Does Hugo know that?”

“Yes. We’ve reached a truce.” That involved him cupping my chin and talking me off a ledge in a very romantic spot earlier today, but that wasn’t the point.

Actually, it kind of was the point, but I wasn’t going to share that little titbit with her.

I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about it.

I hadn’t expected him to be so gentle with me. I’d almost expected him to tell me to stop whining and get on with it, I was in this situation because of my own choices, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

He hadn’t.

He’d cupped my chin with his stupidly gentle touch, looked me in the eye, and told me he’d help me however he could.

“I thought you two bickered every time he opened his mouth,” Cait asked, opening the bottle of wine. “Understandably.”

Very understandably. “We do, but I’m starting to think that’s just how we communicate.”

“It’s interesting.”

“What is?”