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“I kind of like him. They remind me of my roommates. But am I going to meet your parents now?”
“They aren’t my birth parents, if that makes it any less awkward for you,” he said casually as he moved to his kitchen, knowing full well I would follow for an explanation. So I didn’t ask for one. Instead, I took a seat on a bar stool as he took a bottle of wine, making sure to obscure the label. He poured me a glass of the white wine. My gaze never shifted from his as I drank in the scent of it before taking a small sip.
“Coche-Dury Les Perrieres, Meursault Premier Cru?” I asked him.
He looked at me oddly. “How did you know?”
“What, a working-class girl like myself can’t know wine? I thought I made it clear I can be a little bit showy too.”
He fought an urge to smile. “Fine. What year is it?”
I took another sip. “Nineteen ninety-five?”
“You are one of a kind, Felicity Harper. Wrong, it’s nineteen ninety-one, but still close enough that I’m impressed.” He grinned as he drank.
Rolling my eyes, I changed the subject. “Do I still get to hear your story?”
“I’m shocked you’re interested.”
I shrugged. “Normally I wouldn’t be, but you piqued my interest. Are you a tortured soul, Mr. Darcy?”
“No, just a kid who was raised by a loving, hardworking single mother.” He laughed as he leaned against the counter next to me. “My birth father was the rich and notorious playboy, Charles Darcy.”
“The photographer?” I’d seen a few of his nude works in magazines.
He nodded. “They met while my mother was a bartender. She also worked as a part-time housemaid and even a hotel maid. I grew up not knowing who my father was. The moment he found out she was pregnant, he walked out on her. She never wanted me to meet him anyway. She said he smelled like an ashtray and looked like gum on the bottom of her shoe.”
“So did your looks come from her, then?” I grinned.
“She would like you.” He laughed. “If she were still alive. She died of Huntington's disease when I was ten. The last memory I have of her was when she dropped me off at the Darcy Mansion. It was about a four-hour drive from our home. My father lived only four hours away. She stayed that night and then gave me a hug before she left for an experimental treatment. My father never wanted me, but he does send me an expensive gift every year on my birthday. When I was twelve, he gave me a motorcycle. Eventually my aunt and un
cle became my parents. I love them, but whenever I’m around them for too long, I remember I’m the black sheep. I’ve been bored out of my mind for the last twenty-one years, but you’ve made things interesting.”
I couldn’t see how, and I didn’t ask. He finished of the rest of his glass as he waited for me to say something. But I drank casually as I leaned back. I was in no mood to meet his family. Just thinking about having to force a smile, be polite while eating caviar, and listen to a rich woman talk about her book sounded like a nightmare. Then I realized that was his life. He had been born and raised with nothing, then forced to adapt to that type of world. On the outside he looked the part, but on the inside, he was like me.
Damn it. I could feel myself already giving in.
“You’re going to have to buy me a dress.”
“Absolutely. Just as long as I get to peel it off you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Not a Princess
Theo
“At this rate, we’re going to be late,” she said when she came out of my bedroom wearing a red cocktail dress. It looked more like a sexy slip than a dress. It wouldn’t work. I would spend the whole night with a hard-on, thinking of different ways to get her out of it.
“We will arrive fashionably late, and I’m sure the dinner will just be getting started.” I reached for another outfit from the rack they had brought up for us. “Try this one.”
She snatched it from my hand. “I swear to God if you don’t like this one, I’m going naked.”
“Stop looking so fucking beautiful in everything, and we wouldn’t have this problem¸” I said. She glared at me, and I glared back, trying my best not to touch her. If I did now, we would never leave.
“This is the last outfit I’m parading myself in for you.” She lifted the dress between us.
“Nothing in life is final. But we’ll see.”
