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“Oh, no. I wouldn’t want to insult a cat and give him a complex. He might have to go to therapy. I hope you don’t expect me to pay the bill.”
“You’re going to have to go. Now.” She even points at the door. “I’m sorry. There’s been a misunderstanding.”
“Not much room for misunderstanding. You booked a date. I’m here. Where’s the misunderstanding come in?”
I can hear her gulp. “It’s that… I didn’t expect you.”
“Are you that scared of me?” My lips twitch into a grin. Like the bastard I am, her fear only edges me on more. I take a step toward her, closing the distance between us. She mirrors my step in the other direction, desperately trying to get away from me until she bumps into her bookshelf. Now she has nowhere else to go.
She knows it, too; her eyes go impossibly wide, and the rustling of her dress is giving her shaking away.
“I-I just…” She bites her freshly glossed lip, and I wish I could be the one doing it. Everything about this girl screams at me that she needs to get laid. Big time. For a second, I wonder if she’s ever had a man. There is an innocence around her that other women don’t have. I shake that thought away. It can’t be. At twenty-five, there is no way she is still a virgin.
“You’re scaring me.”
“I know,” I admit shamelessly. Lifting my arms, I grab the sides of the bookshelf, caging her in with my body. She looks up at me with tears forming in her baby blues, and suddenly, I feel an ache in my chest.
“Please,” she begs, her voice so small and soft. All I want to do is wrap her up in a blanket and hold her until she trusts me not to hurt her.
I suck in one more deep breath, taking in her flowery perfume before I take a few steps back to give her some space. She basically slumps against the shelf, grabbing onto the edge until her knuckles go white.
“Is it really you?” she asks after a moment of awkward silence. “You’re the person who was assigned to me?”
“That’s right. And your deposit has already cleared, so we’re sort of locked in here. No refunds.”
“I know that.”
“You are safe with me if that’s what you are worried about.” Probably safer than ever before. I doubt she has been on a date with a hitman for hire. And definitely, not one who would protect her like I will. I would kill someone for her… for free. And that’s something I don’t normally do.
She inspects my face like she is mapping my features. Her eyes move over my lips, jaw, nose, and forehead. I wonder if she can see the small scars covering my face. Suddenly, I feel exposed, a feeling I’m definitely not used to. I avert my gaze, ignoring how self-conscious she has made me.
“Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry I tried to slam the door in your face.”
I clear my throat, looking her over again. “I’m sorry I scared you.” Apologizing is another unusual behavior for me.
“It’s okay. I mean, it’s probably me, not you. My imagination runs wild sometimes. I shouldn’t have assumed you are some kind of criminal just because you have a skull tattooed on your hand.
I nod, pressing my lips together, so I won’t tell her that her instinct was spot on. She shifts her weight back and forth, and every time she does, her skirt rustles.
“Are you sure I’m dressed correctly for this? Is that the problem?” Just thinking about my tie has me adjusting it again. There’s a reason I work in a field that doesn’t require a suit.
“What? No! You look… very nice.” She whispers the last part, her cheeks turning a hue of red.
“But you’re dressed more formally than I am. Should I be wearing a tuxedo?”
She looks down at herself, then up at me, and I don’t know if it’s sad or touching, the confusion in her eyes. “I thought it was pretty.” Holding her arms out, she does a slow turn. “The girl at the store said it looked like it was made for me. Do you think it’s too much?”
Fuck me. This girl needs help. They’re going to eat her alive at this wedding. I’ve never met any of her family, but I have good instincts when it comes to people. “Not at all. It does look like it was made for you.” More importantly, Ainsley clearly loves this dress. Why should she change because other people don’t approve? “I just don’t want to be the odd man out and have everybody wondering where you found me. The idea is for the customer to be satisfied with their experience.”
“You look perfect too.” Her gaze immediately falls to the floor, and something about that makes my dick twitch again. “I’m sorry I was so rude. This is all really new to me.”
“What, you mean you’ve never rented a date before?”
It was supposed to be a joke, something that would make her loosen up a little. I don’t need her walking around looking like a scared rabbit all night and attracting unwanted attention. The idea is to blend in. I doubt that’s going to be possible with her looking like a wannabe fairy tale princess. I don’t need her making it worse by looking at me like she’s terrified.
Her features pinch together like she’s pained. “Do you think it’s pathetic? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Not at all. I mean, what would it say about me if I did? This is how I make my living.”
