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And thank God my eyes have been opened, or else I would have been swooning at the sound of that deep baritone voice. The type of voice that vibrates through your body and makes your toes curl.
Or that scent. Pure male, masculine, manlike, and that’s where my knowledge of synonyms stops. It’s the smell of cedar and cardamom, and it’s beyond addictive.
But it’s more than just that handsome stubbled face and dark blond hair with a few lighter strands. He has an insane amount of confidence, and it shows in the way he leans back and assumes I’m a sure thing.
I wish I had known all of this before Topper mentioned his name; that way, I could have liked him even more for those two weeks. I could have longed to be one of those women. He could have made my illusion of freedom that much better, until it all shattered by simply mentioning his name.
And now? I just want to smack him in the face.
“Not happening.”
“Are you always this salty?” Hell no, I’m always nice, but men like him make me want to throw my clutch at his perfect face and hope it leaves a dent or two. Four, if I want to be an overachiever.
I ignore his question while continuing my way. Frederic will be fuming by now. At least we can share that emotion for once.
“I like my women with claws and a danger warning or two.” That makes me still.
“Oh my God, you did not just say that.” I turn around, and I bet he wasn’t ready to see my face, with its ‘you watch your mouth’ look because he straightens his shoulders as if preparing for a possible dispute. And that flirtatious gaze slowly slips off his face before a slight panic takes over, followed by the beautiful look of confusion.
“I’ve had it today with all of you.” My brother is arranging marriages left and right and now Chester Boyd is trying to get into my trousers. Normally, my mouth is shut. I swallow whatever comes to mind, and I let it out when I enter my bedroom. But my blood is boiling, and Chester Boyd won’t report my bad behaviour to my brother, since they don’t particularly like each other.
“Men? You’re referring to men, right? Well, we’re not all the same.”
“Weren’t you just going to pick me up?”
“I…” he hesitates.
“I’m not some piece of meat to throw in front of every salivating man. I’m certainly not interested in being seduced by a man stalking me to the loo.” I point my finger at him with every word I say while closing the distance between us. I’m angry, and I cannot stop my mouth from running. It needs to be set free because I can’t say any of it to Frederic. He’ll have my head, so sadly, it’s Chester Boyd who’s served the hate my mouth spews.
And he definitely deserves it, even when he looks at me with nothing but confusion in his eyes. But it’s the ticking in that one eye that shows me he’s getting agitated. I bet he wasn’t prepared for anything like this. He assumed I was easy prey. That I would just fall at his feet and beg him to have sex with me.
“I’m also not interested in your array of STDs.”
“I’m not sure if I still like this conversation,” he says. Gone is any sign of flirting or amusement. It’s replaced by a much stronger and snippy voice. But his eyes have left mine, bouncing around our surroundings, as if in search of an escape route.
“You don’t like it anymore? Such a bummer because I have way more to say about men like you.”
“All right, let’s hear it then, princess. You made me fucking curious,” he snaps, his eyes fixated on me. He pushes himself off the wall. There’s that confidence. But Chester gave me the green light, and nothing is stopping me from giving him the tongue-lashing he deserves.
Nothing.
“I’ve met a million men like you, Chester.”
“You have? Weird, because I thought I was the only one like me.”
“I have. The ones who assume money gets them everything. That money means they can shag whoever they want, whenever they want. They believe to be on top while we, women, should beg for their scraps. Misogynists. Marrying off their daughters and sisters, all for the money they got screwed out of because of dishonest bastards. You should take this personally, by the way.”
“You know I’m not interested in shagging you anymore.” He lowers his eyebrows and frowns. He’s insulted, and I could care less because my heart’s still racing and my adrenaline is still coursing through my body.
It’smylife he tried to invade.
“Great. I’m not interested in some lousy sex either, where your only focus is on you getting off,” I say.
“I’ll let you know that my partners are always satisfied.”
“Is that a TripAdvisor review? ‘Cause those are not to be trusted.”
“Who pissed in your dairy-free porridge?”
