Page 75 of Arrogant Playboy

“Did you have a nice walk this morning?” he asks.

“I saw cows,” I tell him.

“Cows?”

“Yeah, you know, moo, moo.”

Daniel rolls his eyes at me. “I know what a cow is, Rosie.”

I giggle. “It was lovely and quiet.”

“You miss the country?” he asks.

“When I’m in it, I do. I don’t have much time to get out of London, actually, what I mean is I don’t let myself have enough time.”

“If you ever need to get away, let me know, you’re more than welcome to use the Kent house.” That’s awfully kind of him.

Our meals arrive and are placed in front of us.

“What is this?” Daniel asks, staring at his plate. I can see the worry on his face.

“It’s a full English breakfast. You can’t tell me you have never had one of these before. Not even after a night out and you head to the greasy spoon in the morning to help your hangover.”

He looks up from his plate and glares at me. “Do I look like I frequent a place called a greasy spoon?”

“No, you don’t. Anyway, there’s bacon, baked beans, mushrooms, poached eggs, sausages, tomatoes, and some toast,” I explain to him.

He leans forward. “Is this what English people eat every day?”

“No, not always. When you come to a bed and breakfast this is what you would normally get. Have you never stayed at a bed and breakfast before?” I question him.

“No. There were no hotels close by, it was the best I could do,” he states as he starts poking at his food before he digs in.

“You’re so boujie.” I chuckle.

“I like what I like.” He smirks before digging into his breakfast.

“You seemed to have liked that?” I ask, staring at his empty plate.

“I was hungry, it was my only option.” He grins, placing his napkin on the table.

“It kills you that you liked it.”

“Yes,” he says shaking his head as he pushes his chair out, which has me smiling. We say our goodbyes to the owner and head toward the car. Daniel opens the car door for me to get in then closes it. I watch him scowl as he walks around the front of his Ferrari, opens his door, and takes a seat.

“It’s not far,” he says before starting up the engine which rumbles through us and takes off.

We arrive off the main road at a stately gate. He presses a buzzer, it opens for us, and we drive in along a gravel driveway that disappears behind the forest, where I can see the tip of the roof. There are acres of green grass perfectly mown with stripes, which is impressive. Rounding the corner, I gasp and take in the gorgeous home. The home from the research I’ve done is from the 1920s, an arts and craft-style home which is part of a gated estate that sits on about one hundred and forty acres. The updated paint work of black and white gives the home an American farmhouse vibe. He stops the car, and I am out before he even has a chance to open my door.

“Wow, the photos don’t do this place justice, it’s gorgeous.” I stare in awe.

Daniel nods and opens the door for us. He ushers me in through the arched front door, and I’m speechless. Front to back connects via black stained oak chevron floorboards that run the entire length of the bottom level, giving a dramatic effect as far as the eye can see. I don’t know where to look first because the back garden is calling to me and I head straight forthe back door, where I push it open and take in the gorgeous back deck area that leads out to the pool and spa. Lush green grass surrounds the backyard in that stripy pattern again until you hit the tennis court hidden behind manicured gardens. A mechanical sound behind me grabs my attention, and I turn to see Daniel opening the entire side of the house letting the outside and inside become one.

“This is stunning,” I say, shaking my head as I take in the luxury kitchen with its gray marble countertops and state-of-the-art appliances. There’s a dining room next to the kitchen which looks out over the pool area. “The entertaining you could do here,” I say, envisioning summers on the deck by the pool with the sliding doors open, people coming and going, grabbing food from the kitchen. “Do you like to entertain?” I question him as I pull out my notepad.

“Yes and no. I entertain a lot at the gallery, I have had some parties at my home, but usually I go out.” He walks over to where I’m standing and slides his hands into his pockets as he stares out over the pool. “I’d probably host more intimate parties here as I want this place to be my sanctuary, just close friends.”

“It would be a perfect space for that, especially out here. Oh, imagine nights in the spa, enjoying a glass of wine while staring up at the stars.”

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