Page 32 of Arrogant Playboy

“Daniel, what are you doing?” she asks, tugging at my hand, but I won’t let go, it feels nice having her hand in mine.

“Hi, can I help you?” the sales assistant asks.

“Yes, I’d love to grab her some flats. I know her feet are hurting walking in these heels, but she’s too stubborn to say anything. I think she’s a size eight?” I tell the woman.

She looks over at Rosie and then back to me. “Let’s see what we have,” she says, walking away.

“Daniel, what are you doing?” Rosie asks me.

“Sit, relax. Let’s get you some flats so you don’t end up ruining your feet,” I say, taking a seat, and reluctantly she follows. She slips her shoes off and I can see the red blisters on her toes as she stretches them. The sales assistant brings out some designer sneakers and hands them to Rosie to try on. She puts them on, and I know they feel good on her feet, then she spies the price.

“They are too expensive,” she whispers to me.

“My treat,” I tell her.

“No,” she says, shaking her head.

“We’ll take them. No need to wrap them up, she’ll wear them out of the store. If we can box her heels that would be great,” I tell the woman serving us.

“Daniel, no.”

“You gave up your night to hang out with me, it’s the least I could do,” I tell her.

“I’m not going to win this argument, am I?” I shake my head, which makes her pout but then I see a sly smile form across her lips when she doesn’t think I’m watching.

We walk out of the shop, and I can already tell her feet are feeling better as we cross the road and head into Hyde Park. The sun is slowly setting even though it’s late in the evening, which means there are still a lot of people walking around through the park.

“Do you come to the park often? You don’t live far from it,” Rosie asks.

“My morning runs are around the park.”

“You run around the park, is that like doable?” she asks.

It makes me chuckle. “Yes, it’s doable. It’s just over four miles,” I tell her.

“You run four miles every morning?”

“Yeah,” I say, shoving my hands into my pockets.

“Guess it explains why you look like that.”

“Look like what?” I ask.

“Trying to fish for compliments, Mr. DuPont.” She giggles.

“No, but if you want to give me some, it’s been a while since I’ve heard any,” I tease.

“I’m not going to say it,” she says stubbornly.

“I know you’re thinking it,” I tease.

“Please, you have women stroking your ego every day.” She huffs.

“I don’t care about their opinions.”

“Then you shouldn’t care about mine.”

“Unfortunately, I do.”

---