Page 10 of Arrogant Playboy

“So, you used me?”

Rosie’s face falls upon hearing my words. “It wasn’t like that. Most men aren’t turning down some fun in the bushes. You used me, too.”

“And I asked you to come home with me, does that seem like using you?”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it? Things have changed, and whatever happened can never happen again. Delphine explained it’s a common occurrence so I’m fine with leaving things as they are,” she says, throwing her napkin on the table and standing up. “I appreciate the art lesson today, Mr. DuPont, I learned a lot, but I think I should go before this working relationship sours.”

Fucking, Delphine.

“I don’t want you to leave, Rosie. Please stay, it may not seem like it, but I’m enjoying your company. You don’t take my bullshit. You at least deserve lunch as a thank you for listening to me drone on about art.” She eyes me suspiciously but slowly sits down. “Look, it’s been a shit of a week, actually, it’s been a shit couple of months which isn’t an excuse, but seeing you again has been a highlight.”

“Seeing me has been a highlight? Is that a line you use on women,” she questions.

“No.” Picking up my tumbler of scotch, I swill the amber liquid in the glass. “Like I said, it’s been a shit time.” I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” I ask, my head tilting as I look across the table at her. “It’s not your fault.”

“That you’re having a rough time.”

“Family, what are you going to do?” I throw back the last of my scotch and ask the waiter for another round. “And just so you know, Delphine didn’t tell you the whole truth when she gave you, her warning.”

Rosie’s eyes narrow on me, and if given the chance, I think she would flip me off if we weren’t in the middle of a high-end restaurant in the middle of Mayfair. “Delphine’s been overprotective ever since a woman I had an encounter with didn’t like that I didn’t want to continue after a couple of dates. Unfortunately, she turned into a stalker, and things went downhill from there. I now have a restraining order which stopped the stalking, and I haven’t heard anything in months.”

“That sounds scary.”

“I’ll be honest, it was. And as much as I am this‘playboy’,” I say, using my fingers as air quotes, “as you so call me, I haven’t dated much since then.”

“Don’t blame you,” she says as she takes a sip of her champagne.

“This isn’t a sob story for you to feel sorry for me. Just giving you context. Maybe we could start over?” I ask.

Silence falls between us again as Rosie mulls over my question.

“Hi, I’m Rosie Hunt. I’m a designer at Starr Designs. It’s nice to meet you,” she says, giving me her hand across the table.

“Daniel DuPont. Art agent and DuPont gallery owner. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too,” I say, shaking her hand.

4

ROSIE

Idon’t want to be having fun with him but I am.

We’ve moved onto a pub now as it’s late afternoon, and I’m in no state to go back to work after the amount of champagne I’ve had. Once we got past whatever it was that happened between us, we ended up having a great afternoon chatting about art and interior design. It was nice talking to someone about it and not getting a glazed look over their faces as I talk passionately about a paint color or fabric.

“I’m having the best time, Rosie Hunt. You don’t know how much I needed this,” Daniel says his turquoise eyes now a little glassy as we settle into the booth at the pub. I didn’t realize how much I needed a night like this, too. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun with a male.

“I’m having a great time, too, Daniel DuPont.” I giggle, using his full name like he did. We clink glasses, it sloshes over the edge, and my champagne drips down my fingers.

“Oops,” I say, shaking my hand, and the next thing I know, Daniel grabs my hand and slides a couple of my fingers into his mouth and sucks them. I still as I stare at his lips wrapped around my fingers, my body burning me alive as heat rushesthrough it. He slides his tongue along my fingers and it’s the hottest thing anyone has ever done. Suddenly, Daniel drops my hand and I swear there is a blush forming on his cheeks.

“Rosie. Shit, I wasn’t thinking,” he says, raking his hand through his hair.

“You’re fine,” I say, waving the hand that was just in his mouth at him.

The air between us crackles and sizzles as we stare at each other. My breath shudders as I try to calm my racing heart. He licks his lips as those turquoise pools fall on mine. I’ve had too much champagne, and it’s making me hope he fills the gap between us. I shouldn’t want those lips on mine.

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