Page 7 of Arrogant Playboy

“Those pieces are going to look stunning. They are going to love them, they’re perfect. I knew you would have the goods,” Ivy says as she starts flipping through the menu.

“You have a great eye,” I say, paying her a compliment. “Which one was your favorite, Rosie?” I ask, directing myquestion to her. Those apple cheeks tint again as she has my full attention. I’m curious, wondering what she will say.

“I don’t know, there were so many beautiful pieces,” she answers diplomatically.

I turn in my seat so I am facing her. “I chose well but that’s not an answer. There had to be one that stood out?”

Those green eyes widen in surprise at my comment, which has Ivy chuckling beside us.

“He takes his job seriously, Rosie, he will badger you until you give him an answer,” Ivy tells her.

Her cheeks deepen in color under the full gaze of my stare. She sucks in her bottom lip,putain (fuck),I am trying to be strong, but this little one is testing me.

“I’m always curious about what people think and feel when they see work my artists have created,” I explain to them.

Ivy’s phone starts ringing, and she excuses herself from the table, leaving the two of us alone together.

Rosie fidgets in her spot as she tries to find an answer to my question.

“There’s no wrong answer. It could be something as simple as I love that color combination,” I reassure her.

She lets out a frustrated huff. “I liked the painting you have in the front window. Something about the way the woman is peering at the edge of the cliff, I don’t know, it makes me curious,” she finally answers.

Interesting.“What do you think she’s thinking?”

Her brows pull together as she contemplates my question. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want to know what I think she’s thinking?” I ask her. She nods for me to continue. “I believe she's come to a fork in the road. She can either turn around and return to the past, or she can take a leap off the cliff into the unknown future.”

Rose smiles. “I can see that … or she could be escaping the king who has locked her up, forcing her to marry him. She escapes, and she could either stay and marry someone she doesn’t love or leap to her death.”

I stare in amazement at her. Where did that come from?

“That’s silly, ignore what I said.” I see the embarrassment rise across her skin.

“No, I like it. What made you think of that?” I question her, curious.

“I think I’ve been reading too many romance books.” She giggles as her cheeks continue to bloom pink.

It’s the cutest thing. Who am I? Cute? So, Rosie Hunt likes to read? An image invades my mind of her laid out naked against a fur rug in front of a fire lost in a book while I’m lost in her cunt. Perfection.Stop it.This girl is waving romantic, commitment green flags right in front of your face.

“That’s an interesting take,” I say, reaching out and taking a sip of my water. “What are your books about? Must be good if that painting evokes such a reaction,” I question her.

She sighs. “They’re romantic fantasy, you know, like other worlds and things,” she explains before turning back to the menu, obviously not comfortable talking about it.See, she is a romantic. Green flags. Stay away.

Suddenly Ivy is back. “Sorry, team, I must go. There’s drama with an installation I need to sort out. Daniel, thanks for today. See you at dinner next week,” she warns. I nod. “Rosie, thanks for your help, I’ll see you back in the office next week. It’s Friday. Stay, have a drink, and enjoy the food here, it’s great,” Ivy says, grabbing her coat and bag before disappearing.

“Guess it’s just us then.” I grin,Thank you universe.I turn my attention back to Rosie who does not look comfortable. I haven’t had that reaction from women who’ve been stuck alone with me before. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drinkafter the shit week I’ve had.” Raising my hand for the waiter to come over, I order a scotch, neat, and then turn to her.

“I’m fine,” she says curtly.

“Come on, it’s Friday. Your boss said you’re off the clock. One drink, I promise to behave,” I say, holding up my hands.

She rolls her eyes at me and orders a glass of champagne from the waiter. “You can move to the other side of the table if you like,” she points to the spot Ivy just vacated.

I hesitate before getting up and moving, her shoulders visibly relax as I take a seat. “So, tell me more about your books,” I ask.

She shakes her head. “There’s nothing to tell. They’re books.”

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