When his eye fixed on mine, I couldn’t tell if they were catching the light from my bracelet or if they were really just that sparkling. Either way, they held me momentarily in place.
“I’ve never met a girl who would turn down diamonds.”
I broke our gaze with a shrug. “I’ve never met a guy whose morning ritual was to scream at Geneva, but we all have our quirks, don’t we?” As the driver opened the door, I slid gracefully out of the car, keeping a careful hand on the hem of my skirt as I climbed past him. “And on that note, Marcus, I have to be honest with you.”
He slid out next to me and froze obediently as I straightened his collar.
“If there’s one thing I’ve discovered about you in our short time together, it’s this...”
A dozen flashbulbs went off, and we automatically posed, continuing to talk through perfect, pasted smiles.
“You’re not what the press makes you out to be. You’ve won me over with your kind and loving heart. Meeting you at that little coffee shop was fate.”
He smiled.
He had the most amazing smile I’d ever seen. And he was smiling at me...
Chapter 16
After what seemed like an eternity, we finally made it through the lines of press and strolled, arm in arm, into the country club. It looked exactly how I imagined it from seeing mock representations in a dozen movies and shows. Only this time the stakes were real, the prices were high, and the looks I was getting from the other women were nothing short of scathing.
“The powder room is right over there,” Marcus murmured, gesturing with one hand while keeping the other on the small of my back.
I eyed the murderous faces of the harpies between us with dread. “Just a friendly observation,” I whispered back, “saying words like ‘powder room,’ it’s kind of old-fashioned. And I want to keep you hip, Mr. Billionaire.”
His eyes narrowed, and he leaned down to whisper something equally cutting, but I quickly detached myself and breezed away. When I found him again a few minutes later, he was standing in front of the wall-to-wall windows, holding two drinks. One was something clear and deadly; the other was fruity and shockingly pink.
I opted for the latter, sipped it gratefully as my eyes darted around the room. No, I wasn’t imagining it. These women were hating on me for real. But it wasn’t like they’d been gunning for Marcus—they’d all already come here with someone else. I didn’t understand.
“Do you know how silly I felt ordering that?” Marcus asked, eying the oversized umbrella with disdain. “Men don’t order pink drinks.”
I grinned and held it up. “Try it, you’ll definitely like it.”
“I’m not trying that.”
“Why, ’cause it isn’t single malt?” I lowered my voice theatrically, and his stern demeanor cracked again in a boyish smile.
“Is that really how I sound to you?”
“Try my drink and I’ll tell you.”
His eyes flashed down to mine, but before he could say anything, my face brightened with a welcoming smile.
“Mr. Takahari!” I greeted him. “It’s so good to see you again!”
“Rebecca.” He opened his arms, and I ducked inside for a quick but warm embrace. “I’m pleased that you accepted my invitation.”
“Well, you know this one.” I cocked my head toward Marcus and rolled my eyes. “If I hadn’t insisted we go out, he’d still be on the couch, drooling over the stock exchange.”
Takahari roared with laughter, but this time, I was wise enough to take a step back. “And what is that you’re drinking?” he asked curiously. “I’ve never seen anything like that here.”
“It’s some mango-strawberry-vodka extravagance. Want to try?” I offered it to him and he took a huge gulp.
“That’s quite delicious. And surprisingly strong.” He turned to one of his henchmen and muttered something in Japanese. A moment later, the man appeared with another. “Now Rebecca, will you and Marcus do me the honor of accompanying me on the green today?”
Oh, shit...that was seriously deviating from th
e plan. Not to mention, I’d never swung a golf club in my life.