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“But it did change the basis of this whole thing. I don’t owe that creep a million pounds anymore, and yet, I’m still here.”
“Better sheets here than in Harriet’s spare bedroom?”
She grins. “Something like that.”
“Tomorrow night, when Prince—”
“Tomorrow night, I’ll be out of your hair.”
I glare at her. “With hisson—”
“Yes, whoisn’this father.”
My brow furrows.
“It’s just dinner, Noel. Not a lap dance.”
My lips curl dangerously. And yet, she just giggles as she turns, goes up on her toes again, cups my face, and kisses me slowly, sensually. I groan, my hands reaching for herjustas she slips away, biting her lip. She pads over to the shower, sliding the smoked glass door open and reaching to turn on the water.
“He’s my future boss,” she adds, turning back to me. “He’s been amazing through all of this, and he’s still pretty banged up. Plus, I honestly don’t think his dad has been helping him much.”
She shrugs.
“Maybe I could start to sway Jacob to your side of things?”
I smirk, shaking my head as I move toward her.
“Well, well, well… Ella Machiavelli.”
She giggles as I dart my hand out, grabbing her hip and yanking her closer to me.
“I think you’re spending too much time with me,” I grunt.
“Precisely why I should go to dinner.”
I grumble, my jaw set. She rolls her eyes.
“My God, would it help if I mentioned Jacob isgay?”
My brow arches.
“Is he?”
She nods. “But he asked me to keep that private.”
I won’t lie; the removal of the possibility that Jacob is simply trying to get his hands on my wife swings the arrow a smidge closer to “yes.” A fuckingsmidge.
I exhale slowly, scowling.
“Fine. Liam—”
“Is not invited, Noel.”
I glare at her, split between being ticked off by her utter defiance and being extremely impressed by her.
Proud of her.
“Noel, I will befine, okay? I’m not meeting him in an alley to shoot heroin and turn tricks. It’s dinner at his lavish townhouse, which I’m sure has an army of security, especially after what happened.”
