Page 53 of One Hot Chase

"When will you learn that I never take anything for granted?" I offer her my arm. "Shall we explore this magical place before our culinary duel?"

Sabrina hesitates for a moment, then links her arm through mine. "Lead the way, Mr. Wilde. But remember, this doesn't mean you've won anything yet."

We step out into the bustling streets of the medina, the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow over the terracotta buildings. As we weave through the narrow alleyways, I notice how perfectly Sabrina fits into this vibrant, chaotic landscape. Her eyes dance with excitement as she takes in the colorful textiles hanging from shop fronts and the enticing aromas wafting from food stalls.

"You know," she says, tugging me toward a display of intricate silver jewelry, "I half expected you to give up after Budapest. Most men would have."

I chuckle, watching while she admires a delicate bracelet. "I'm not most men, darling. And you're certainly not most women. Besides, you had never gone on a true man hunt until you met me."

"What makes you think I haven't?"

"Any other blokes you tried on for size couldn't possibly have understood your needs and desires." I shuffle a bit closer. "Why else would you have let me fuck you with my hand in the Beaufort Bar? Or let me take you to my suite for a night of uninhibited shagging? You are one of a kind, just like me."

She glances up at me, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. "Is that why you're chasing me across continents? Because I'm not like other women?"

I pause, choosing my words carefully. "I'm chasing you because you are Sabrina, the man hunter. Unpredictable, brilliant, maddening Sabrina. And I can't seem to get enough."

A flash of something---surprise? pleasure?---crosses her face before she masks it with a casual smile. "Well, don't get too attached, Sir Declan. This is just a game, remember?"

"Is it?" I murmur, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

She shivers at my touch but doesn't pull away. "Of course it is. What else could it be?"

I don't answer, instead letting my gaze linger on her lips. The air between us crackles with tension, and for a moment, I think she might close the distance between us. But then she clears her throat and steps back.

"So, about that dinner," Sabrina says, her voice a touch breathier than usual. "Where exactly are you planning to wow me with culinary delights?"

I grin, glad for the slight reprieve from the intensity of the moment. "Ah, that would be telling, wouldn't it? Let's just say I have connections in interesting places."

She rolls her eyes, but I can see the curiosity sparkling in them. "Of course you do. Is there anywhere in the world where Declan Wilde doesn't have a friend with a favor to cash in?"

"Probably not," I admit with a wink. "It's part of my charm."

We continue our stroll through the medina, bantering back and forth as we explore the labyrinthine streets. As the sun begins to set, painting the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks, I guide Sabrina toward a hidden doorway tucked away in a quiet corner of the medina. She raises an eyebrow as I knock in a distinctive pattern that sounds almost musical.

Her brows knit together. "Secret knocks now? You really are going all out to impress me."

I wink at her. "Oh, love, you haven't seen anything yet."

The door swings open, revealing a dimly lit passageway. I place my hand on the small of Sabrina's back, guiding her inside. As we walk, the narrow corridor opens up into a breathtaking courtyard. Lush greenery surrounds us, and the gentle sound of trickling water fills the air. Lanterns hang from the trees, casting a warm, intimate glow over the space.

Sabrina's eyes widen as she takes in the romantic scene. "Declan, this is...wow."

I stand up taller, my chin held high, all because of her compliment. "Only the best for you, pet."

An elegantly set table for two sits in the center of the courtyard, surrounded by flickering candles. As we approach, a waiter appears as if by magic, pulling out Sabrina's chair.

"Your Highness," I tease, gesturing for her to sit.

She tries to play it cool but can't hide her smile as she takes her seat. "You're ridiculous."

I settle across from her, my eyes never leaving her face. "Ridiculously charming, you mean."

"Jury's still out on that one," she quips, but there's a softness in her gaze that makes my heart skip.

The waiter returns with a bottle of champagne, popping the cork with a flourish. As he pours the bubbling liquid into our flutes, I raise mine in a toast.

"To the thrill of the chase," I say, my eyes locked on Sabrina's.

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