Page 10 of Personal Escort

“Detained, no arrest record.” I made sure of that.

“Right.” She sighs and takes another bite before putting down her spoon and squaring her shoulders. “I hate dating.”

Excellent. Never date. No man is good enough for you.The flare of jealousy is bright and fierce and even more unexpected than the grassy notes of green tea in my ice cream. Unlike the dessert, though, there’s nothing sweetly delicious about my blast of possessiveness. It’s wrong and inappropriate. “So getting married isn’t on your radar?” I manage to grind out. “That’s fine. Just keep being you.”

Keep being funny and gorgeous and celibate.

“But Nana has a point.”

No, she doesn’t. “How’s that?”

“Well not for me, exactly. But she wants this, and…”

“You’d get married just to make your grandmother happy?”

Her eyes go wide at the sharp tone in my voice.

My spoon presses hard against my palm, and I glance down, realizing I’m white-knuckling the metal.

“I don’t know.” But the way her voice falls, I know I’ve done exactly what she’d hoped I wouldn’t—I’ve judged her, and shut her down. Damn it.

“Hey.” I set my spoon down and reach across the table, brushing my fingertips against the back of her hand. Her fingers are so much smaller than mine, slim and long, just like the rest of her. I ignore the awareness that pulses deep inside my body as I touch her skin. “Sorry.”

She shrugs. “I know it’s a ridiculous reaction. It’s just that my grandmother is everything to us, you know?”

I do. On one hand, this is a sign that I should continue to mind my own business and leave the Russos to their complicated family dynamic.

On the other hand, life is short. “How about we finish this up and take a walk? You can tell me what Nana wants you to do, and I’ll do my best to not think it’s a terrifyingly bad idea.”

She laughs, a peel of joy that grows and bounces in the air around us.

I don’t hear that enough. I slide my phone out of my pocket. “Hey, when are you heading back? I’m flying to Toronto tomorrow evening.”

“I’m on a mid-afternoon flight.” She gives me a small, regretful smile, but her eyes are still crinkled with laughter.

No need for regret. I’m already rescheduling my last two meetings. “What airline are you on?”

She tells me her flight details even as she gives me a curious what-are-you-doing look, and I fire off an email to my assistant with instructions to get me on that flight and bump Cara up to first class with me if she isn’t already there.

“How long are you going to be in Toronto?” she asks as we make our way out of the restaurant and onto the busy Brooklyn thoroughfare.

“Just a day, same as here. I’ve got a string of meetings set up. Here, Toronto, London, Dubai, Tokyo. I’ll be home again next week.”

“Back to your lab high above the ocean.”

“Yep.”

“You’re so lucky,” she murmurs, her eyes going soft as she glances up at me.

I dodge us around a group of people, my hand in the small of her back. She points to a park at the end of the street, then I look back down at her again.

It doesn’t take long to reach the park. Two blocks. At least a dozen sideways glances. I suddenly feel too big, a bit clumsy, and certainly out of my league, because now all I can see is Cara’s soft, pink mouth. Her bright eyes and gorgeous face. The one thing in the world more beautiful than the Pacific Ocean.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do next. It’s definitely going to be foolish.

And totally worth it.

CHAPTER SIX

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