Page 12 of Bargain Match

Especially because at every turn, there’s a fresh new romantic hell awaiting us.

What can I say? I love to watch him squirm.

I mean, the man could not have gotten out of the bedroom fast enough after he saw the rose petals on the bed.

Glynis gives me a knowing smile. “I’d wager still waters run deep with yer lad.”

“You have no idea.”

The older gentleman from before appears at the door with our suitcases. He gives a silent nod of greeting before depositing the bags at the foot of the bed and leaving.

Glynis rolls her eyes. “As ye can see, I know the type all too well. But Malcolm is a good man. A man of few words but a good heart.”

“That’s just like Burke.”

And it is. Because beneath his gruff exterior, he’s one of the kindest people I know. I mean, he’s humoring me with this whole arrangement, even though he thinks it’s insane.

Sure, he’s being a little grouchy now. But I’m sure that’s only because he was cramped between two women who fell asleep on his shoulders during the longest leg of our flight.

“I’ll leave ye to yer rest, but we’ll see ye down in the hall for dinner. I have something special in store for ye.” She gives a wink. “After all, it’s almost St. Valentine’s.”

Glynis leaves, closing the door behind her. Since Burke shows no signs of re-emerging, I open my suitcase to unpack. And gasp.

“Oh no.” I pick up the one fancy dress I packed along. “No, no, no, no, no!”

“What’s wrong?” Burke asks, suddenly appearing, his hair wet from a quick shower.

His white shirt clings to his chest, with damp spots showing he pulled it on before he was dry. Something flutters in my stomach. I take a deep breath to settle it.

“Are you okay?” he clutches my shoulder and stares deeply into my eyes.

How have I never noticed the gold flecks mixed in with the green before?

I shake my head to snap myself out of my stupor. “I’m fine. It’s just my dress.”

“What happened?”

I hold it up, displaying the giant stain that has now appeared on the satin fabric.

“Oh.” He frowns. “How did that happen?”

“It looks like my foundation exploded all over it.”

“Foundation?”

“Part of my make-up.” I gingerly pick up the offending bottle. “I thought I was being so smart packing it in a plastic bag, butthe bag seems to have burst.” I drop them both. “Now, I don’t have a dress or foundation to wear for our dinner at the castle tomorrow night.”

“You don’t need them.”

I glare at him. “That’s such a guy thing to say.”

“I mean it.” He lifts a shoulder. “You’ll look beautiful whatever you wear.”

My heart flips at his words. “You don’t have to say that. We don’t have an audience.”

“I’m telling you the truth. With or without an audience.” Then he turns to disappear back into the bathroom to finish his interrupted shower.

As he does, I can’t quite ignore the effect his words have had on me.

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