“We’re friends now, though, aren’t we?” he asked. “Not strangers.”

Silently I weighed my options. Get into the car with the most handsome man in Europe, who would either take me safely home or he’d chop me into tiny pieces and feed me to his dog? On the other hand, I could wander the streets for the evening and end up meeting a murderer anyway. Seemed like even odds on getting home or getting axe-murdered. “You promise me you’re not a serial killer?”

“Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up three fingers.

The way his eyes twinkled as he said it suggested Dexter was about as far away from Boy Scout as it was possible to be. But I was lost in a big city, and whatever decision I made would be a risk.

I took his hand as he helped me into his car. When the door shut, the man at the wheel said, “Good evening, ma’am.”

He probably thought Dexter was taking me home. Which he was, but not like that. No siree. I wasn’t shopping for distractions.

“Where are we going?” Dexter asked as he got in beside me.

I leaned forward to give the driver my address and Dexter chuckled from behind me. “What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said as if he’d just discovered a secret about me I didn’t know I’d revealed.

“You want me to tell you my address so you can tell the driver? Do you have control issues you need to discuss with your shrink?” I teased, grinning. I just hoped he was a guy who could take a joke. “You may be surprised to learn that in America, women can give out their addresses without any male assistance.”

“Across the pond, but an entirely different world,” he said, unable to contain an answering smile.

After I gave the driver my address, I settled back into the plush leather seat.

“So how long have you lived in London?” he asked.

I counted on my fingers. “Six days. Well, six and a half, if you count the time difference. I arrived last Saturday morning.”

“Oh wow. Not long. Is it your first time in England?”

“Yeah. I didn’t even have a passport before this trip.” I wasn’t about to tell him I hadn’t made it out of Oregon until a week ago. He was a super-successful, sophisticated guy who no doubt travelled all the time. I bet he’d never met someone before who’d never made it out of state, let alone lived in a single-wide trailer.

“And how do you like it?” he asked.

“Mostly it’s amazing, though some of the guys are a little cheesy.”

He nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Positively fondue-like, I’m afraid.”

“To be honest with you, I’ve never had fondue,” I replied. “But I’m guessing it’s something close to heaven. I think the next three months are going to feature a lot of firsts for me. Let’s hope fondue is in there somewhere.” There had already been more first-time experiences than I could have imagined. Tonight had more that I could count on both hands. It was the first time in the ballroom at some fancy hotel. First time drinking champagne. The first time seeing millions of dollars’ worth of the most gorgeous jewelry up close and personal.

The first time being driven home by a handsome stranger who also happened to be one of the most successful fine jewelers in the world.

“Well I’d be delighted to make sure it is. It seems only fair, considering my cheesiness distracted you from meeting your colleagues this evening. I should make it up to you.”

He had nothing to make up. But he knew that already.

“Like on a date?” I asked.

“A cheese date,” he replied.

It had started raining, and I traced one of the raindrops trickling down the other side of the window so I didn’t betray how I beamed inside at his invitation.

For most women, it was an invitation too good to pass up, but this guy had already distracted me enough. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I like to talk cheese with you,” he said, looking at me as if he was unpeeling the dress from my shoulders. “I want to take you to dinner.”

I wasn’t asked out on dates often. And when I was, I rarely wanted to say yes. Fondue with Dexter sounded great, but felt wrong. It seemed self-indulgent and stupid. I was already in London on my dream internship. That was enough fun, wasn’t it?

Back in Oregon, I was used to making sure there was enough money coming in to pay the rent on mine and Autumn’s trailer, and my parents’ trailer, along with tuition payments for my sister’s college and then gas and food. Grilled cheese was a staple, and anything creative we could figure out with that week’s sale produce. I spent a lot of my life worrying, adding up the out column and making sure it wasn’t bigger than the in column. London should be enough without dinner dates, period. I didn’t even want to calculate the karmic cost of spending more time with Dexter Daniels.

Tags: Louise Bay The Mister Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net