Page 82 of Arrogant Playboy

“It was Daniel,” I confess.

Georgia’s brows raise high on her face. “Daniel? Wait. How did you get from hooking up at a bed and breakfast in Kent to shopping out Bond Street? Teach me your ways,” she teases.

“It’s not like that. We went shopping for the cottage, which is so stunning, it’s my dream home.”

“Did you christen it?” I quickly take a sip of my champagne. “You did, you dirty whore.”

“Anyway, we spent all day yesterday shopping for the home which is nearly done, and then he insisted I try on this dress and …”

“You had your Pretty Woman moment and he bought you everything.” Georgia grins.

“He wanted to.”

“I’m not knocking it at all, good for you. But I thought you were trying not to fall for the guy. This is swoony,” Georgia says, waving her hands over at the bags.

“It is, isn’t it? This weekend was one of the best I’ve ever had.”

“Oh no,” Georgia says, “you’re falling for him.”

“What? No, he’s much more than I ever expected, that’s all,” I gush.

“You’re so falling for him,” she repeats.

“I’m not. Dubai is my plan, will be my plan, Daniel is … just …”

“A distraction,” Georgia finishes for me.

“Yes, a pretty one. I’ve been honest with him from the start. I told him nothing else can happen between us other than fun.”

“He knows about Dubai?”

I shake my head.

“Do you think when the time comes, you will be able to say goodbye?”

“Yes,” I answer.

“And what about when Emily and Louis get married? When you come back, you’ll have to watch him with another. Do you think you could do that?” The thought of him with another woman has me seeing red. “I can see it on your face, you’d be jealous.”

“It would take me a moment to get used to seeing him with someone else, but as long as he is happy, that’s all that matters.”

“That’s a bullshit answer, but I’ll let it slide because I know you’re not being honest with yourself.”

“My career will always be a priority.”

“But you could have a career and love if you stay in London,” Georgia argues.

I still because I hadn’t thought of it like that. “Enough about me, tell me more about your move to Paris.” We spend the rest of the night chatting about Georgia’s new life.

“Rosie,Mr. DuPont is here to see you,” Adina says, popping her head into my office.

“Send him in,” I say, surprised by his visit. Nerves flutter in my stomach, catching me off-guard, I’m excited to see him. He walks, into my office, dressed like he’s stepped off the cover of GQ, in a navy suit, with a white shirt, no tie but sunglasses, his dark hair slicked back with a takeout bag in his hand.

“I was passing by and thought I’d pop in. I knew you’d be hungry, probably haven’t eaten and I wanted to check in on how yesterday went with the install.” He grins, taking a seat in front of me and then pulls out two bowls of salad for us. He hands me my chicken Caesar salad which he knows is my favorite. “So, how did yesterday go?”

Yesterday, a shiny black luxury van was waiting for us at work to take us to the property, and there was a picnic basket filled with snacks and drinks for us. He had left a note in the basket, too.

Rosie & Team

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