Page 9 of If You Give a Billionaire a Bride

I have the compelling desire to close the distance between us and draw her close. But, considering her indifferent reaction to seeing me, I doubt she would appreciate it.

As I look around, I’m aware that every other man in the hotel lobby is watching her, waiting for their chance to approach her. They’re shit out of luck because if I have anything to say about it, she’ll be leaving with me. I’m certain Theo would prefer Everly go with me than stay alone at the hotel bar surrounded by men she doesn’t know.

Looking down to regain my composure, I notice she’s traded in her Docs for designer bold red heels.

“Of course not.” Her voice drips with sarcasm. “What are you doing in Vegas on a Friday night?”

“Why do you think I’m here?” I challenge her.

She tilts her head to examine me, tapping her lips with a red fingernail, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “I’ve heard you’re quite the ladies’ man and that you travel a lot for work. So I assume you’re wrapping up a business trip or here for a weekend of debauchery. From the stories Theo has shared with me, I’d guess the latter.”

I furrow my brow. What the hell has he told her? Sure, I avoid committed relationships like the plague, but that doesn’t make me a womanizer.

“Which is it, Stafford?” Everly taunts me. “And remember, I’m on a first-name basis with your mother, so you should think twice before lying.”

I press my lips together to suppress a chuckle. It’s nice to see her sassy side shining through the guarded mask she’s hiding behind.

“I’m here for both,” I admit casually. “Stafford Holdings had an emergency board meeting this afternoon. Harrison had a conflict in his schedule, so I flew in from London to attend on his behalf.”

I leave out the fact that the urgent meeting was to discuss a business deal with her father.

My family owns Stafford Holdings, the largest real estate firm in the country. When my dad retired three years ago, my oldest brother Harrison stepped in as CEO of Stafford Holdings. He made my other brother Dylan Chief Financial Officer, and I was shocked when he named me Chief Operating Officer.

Nine months ago I volunteered to head up the new Stafford Holdings office in London, which means I’ve spent the majority of my time there. Despite Theo’s hectic travel schedule, we meet up at a bar or club a handful of times a month now that we live in the same city. Coincidentally, I haven’t crossed paths with Everly since I’ve been there.

“If you’re here for business, how does pleasure factor into that equation?” Everly asks with a raised brow.

I swivel my chair to face her. “I’m an opportunist. I never pass up the chance to sprinkle in a little pleasure.” I wink.

Everly shakes her head with disappointment. “What happened to you, Stafford? I don’t recognize this version of you.”

She’s right. It’s apparent that we’ve both undergone significant changes since high school.

Before my accident I was a confident person. After, I remained unfazed on the outside, putting on a front for myfamily and friends. In truth, it was a crushing blow every time I was with someone who couldn’t see past my physical flaws. First with Whitney, followed by a string of unsuccessful first dates during the summer after graduation. Even now it’s a hit to my self-esteem whenever a person treats me differently when they get a close look at my face.

I learned early on that I’m not the kind of guy a woman takes home to meet her parents.

From experience, I’ve learned that most women can’t resist elusive men. They abandon their instincts and repulsion when drawn to a charming playboy who has no interest in commitment. My scar works in my favor. It garners sympathy and allows me to portray the detached flirt who will give a woman a night she’ll never forget, with no unwanted strings attached.

“I could ask the same thing about you,” I fire back. “The Everly I knew would never be so quick to judge and would have greeted me like an old friend, not like a stranger.”

“At least I’m not a Casanova, bragging about my conquests like they’re trophies,” she retorts sharply, like I’ve struck a nerve.

Damn, that was harsh, but true.

I’m used to snide remarks about my playboy lifestyle, but it bothers me that Everly thinks of me that way.

I pick at her abandoned cork coaster, my hands itching for something to do.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Ev, but what you see is what you get. The same can’t be said for yourself,” I say bluntly.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she snaps, her eyes blazing with defiance.

I lean in toward her so only she can hear me. “Where’s the optimistic, cheerful girl who viewed the world through rose-tinted glasses I grew up with?”

Ironically, we’re both concealing our true selves, just in different ways.

Everly narrows her gaze at me. “Stop pretending like you know me.” I don’t miss the hint of sadness in her voice.

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