“You know it’s not because I don’t want you.”
That was not what I hoped he’d say. I don’t answer because I don’t accept his rejection.
“Let me walk you to the lift.”
“Why thank you, kind sir.” I press the backs of my fingers under my chin, my accent turning ridiculous and southern. “Because I surely couldn’t find theelevatoron my own.” In for a dollar, in for a dime, I give my lashes an exaggerated flutter.
With a lopsided half smile, he offers me his elbow. “Come along, Scarlett.”
I slant him a confused look. Is Scarlett the usual reason for his hotel suite?
“O’Hara? I thought that was who you were trying to impersonate.”
“You would make a terrible Rhett,” I reply, sliding my arm through his.
“True. I don’t have the ears for it.”
We pass the hotel bar, which looks like the kind of place you’d find red-lipped starlets drinking dirty martinis.
“Looks fancy,” I say. “But do you think I might be overdressed?”
He frowns and looks like he’s about to say something when the universe intervenes and his phone vibrates with a text.
“You should get that,” I say, stepping ahead to the elevators. A group of men stands in front of the doors. One of them slides me a cursory look over his shoulder, then does a double take. And suddenly I have a plan.
“Don’t worry, the hotel isn’t holding a wedding,” I offer with a pleasant smile. “At least, not mine.”
“Sorry?”
“You won’t be kept awake by a cut-rate Céline Dion, I mean.”
“I like a bit of Céline myself.” His eyes follow my fingers as I slip the key to my room into the top of my dress. His mouth kicks up in one corner. Something tells me I’ve captured the attention of the cocky one of the pack.
“You struck me as someone with different tastes.”
Welcome to flirty level one: I might be interested.
“Did I?” He turns to face me, sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants. “You didn’t get married here, then?”
I give a soft laugh. “I didn’t get married at all. I mean, that was the plan, but ...” Cue a hesitant smile and a coy shrug.
Level two: we’ve established I’m single.
“What happened?” His gaze moves over me, taking particular note of where I’ve stashed my key.
“A slight miscalculation,” I say holding my thumb and index finger almost together. “Turns out, he’s been banging someone else.”
Level three: I might just be up for it.
“No fuckin’ way!” His eyes almost fall out of his head as his companions exchange a look, their ears straining to listen in to the conversation.
“That was pretty much my reaction.” I sigh, in kind of anOh, well. Who needs a groom when you’re this cute?way.
“But you’re gorgeous!” There goes his wandering gaze again.
Level four: he’s pretty much confirmed he’d like to see me naked.
“That’s sweet of you to say so.” I push an artfully curled lock of hair behind my ear, shivering as I anticipate Oliver’s presence behind me.
