Page 17 of Scarlett and the Big Bad Billionaire
He put his elbows on the table and leaned toward me.
“Why does that dickwad get to ruin your wedding dayandyour vacation? Whether you want me around or not,youshould stay and have a good time. It’ll be the perfect revenge against that asshole of a former fiancé. Order the caviar. Order the most expensive bottles of wine on the menu. Have the time of your life and charge everything to the room.”
My breath caught in my chest as I tried to picture it.CouldI really do that? The tiny hairs on my arms and the back of my neck lifted.
“But I don’t know you. You don’t know me. How do you know I’m not crazy?” I asked.
“You’re not. I’m a good judge of character. And even if you are, a little crazy now and then can be a good thing.”
“How do I knowyou’renot some con artist who’s going to take advantage of me?”
He raised one eyebrow and tossed a significant glance at the bed where I’d slept then gestured to the chair where he’d slept.
“Wedon’tknow each other very well,” he said. “But what do you have to lose? If you’re not having a good time, you can tell me to get lost and hop a plane back to the heartland.”
The sound of a text notification had me reaching for my phone. It was from Maddie.
-Are you up? You okay?
I texted back.
-I’ll live. Eating something now. Wolf ordered room service. He made me take some ibuprofen and drink water last night or it would be worse.
-Good. Is he still there? He. Is. So. Hot.
-He is. I mean yes, he’s here.
I paused before typing the next words.
He wants me to stay in Greece and spend the week with him.
My sister’s reply came a few seconds later.
-DO IT! You deserve a fling after what you’ve been through.
I put the phone away without responding.
“Sorry,” I said to Wolf. “That was my sister checking on me.”
“And what does the Terminator think you should do?”
“She’s not sure,” I lied.
“When I don’t know what to do, I go with my gut,” he said. “It’s never steered me wrong.”
“Oh really? And what’s your gut telling you right now?”
The wolfish grin returned. “That your sister told you to go for it.Andthat we’re gonna have one hell of a time together. What about your gut, Red? What’s it saying?”
“Why do you keep calling me Red?”
His face brightened in a grin. “Your dress—from last night. You said, ‘no names.’ That’s why you’re calling me Wolf. You don’t remember?”
“It sounds vaguely familiar.” Much of last night was a blur. But Ididremember not wanting to exchange names with the guys. It wasn’t like we were going to form any lasting bonds at the resort bar on my super-sad non-wedding night.
“We can exchange real first names if it’ll make you feel better,” he offered.
“No,” I blurted. “We don’t need to do that.”
