Page 16 of One Night in My Rival's Bed

‘A history lesson?’ I knew I was parroting him but I couldn’t get my head around spending more time alone with him—at his request. But I did want to hear his side of things about the leadup to my father’s suicide.

‘Okay. When and where?’

‘My place.’

I frowned. ‘Your place? Why not a restaurant?’

‘You said you wanted our discussion to be private.’

‘Right, well... Do you want me to bring anything?’

‘No. And I’ll pick you up.’

I was privately impressed by his chivalrous offer, but I didn’t want to communicate it to him.

‘Why? I’m perfectly able to get myself to your place.’

‘I know, but I’d prefer to pick you up.’

‘Is that so you can control when it’s time for me to leave?’

He gave a ghost of a smile. ‘I promise not to keep you long.’

Given he was a sleep-with-them-and-leave-them playboy, I could only imagine the ridiculously short timeframe on his relationships. I gave him a pert look. ‘I bet you say that to all the girls.’

He threw his head back and laughed and I was totally blindsided again. I had never heard him laugh before. He had a deep rich laugh that made the fine hairs on my arms stand up at the roots. I wanted to hear more of it. I wanted to see his face relax in humour rather than tense up in stern disapproval. He was a stop-your-pulse-handsome man either way, but when he laughed it completely transformed him. It gave me a glimpse of who he had been before his brother’s accident—a happy-go-lucky man who had no reason to frown.

‘Shall we say eight p.m.?’ he said, with a smile still curving his mouth.

‘Fine. Eight it is.’

Seriously, if he had said two in the morning, I would still have said yes.

CHAPTER FIVE

MYWORKDAYSnormally flash past but this day was as slow as a snail on crutches. I had trouble giving my clients my full attention. My brain kept drifting off to what I might wear for my dinner with Grayson. I mentally examined the contents of my wardrobe and decided I needed to hit the high street in my lunch hour.Lunch hour, ha-ha. Inevertook a lunch hour. I normally worked through because there wasn’t enough time in the day with all I had to do for Niamh as well as work. But since she was still with Ethan, presumably at his penthouse apartment by now, I had more time on my hands.

After forty-five minutes of trying on clothes in various boutiques, I concluded I was a terrible shopper. I couldn’t decide what to buy for my non-date dinner with Grayson. There was a part of me that wanted to wow him. I might not be supermodel material, but I can really rock a little black dress and sky-high heels. But another part of me wanted to keep things casual. I didn’t want him to think I was hitting on him, especially since he was the one who’d orchestrated the no-touching rule. The rule I was having so much trouble sticking to.

In the end, I went for the little black dress. A new and ridiculously expensive one because I didn’t want to wear anything I had worn before. Clothes can be as evocative as music. I got rid of a lot of my clothes when I ended my relationship with my ex. Most of my wardrobe represented my failure to see our relationship for what it was. And the one thing in life I try my best to avoid is failure.

It was bang on eight p.m. when my doorbell rang. I gave myself a quick glance in the full-length mirror in my bedroom. My hair was up in a bun that took meagesto appear makeshift and casual. My make-up was impeccable, my perfume subtle but fragrant. I wore my favourite dangly earrings—they were so dangly they almost brushed my shoulders and tinkled when I moved. My dress was worth every penny. It clung to my body in all the right places, making me feel feminine and attractive in a way I had not felt before. Or maybe that’s what spending heaps of money on a dress does to you—it makes you want to believe it was worth it.

I opened the front door a short time later to see Grayson standing there looking handsome enough to stop my heart. My breath stalled, and my pulse went a little haywire. He was wearing a light blue blazer teamed with trousers in a navy blue and his shirt was white, highlighting his tanned complexion. His jaw was clean-shaven and his hair still damp from a shower, and I could smell his aftershave, an alluring mix of citrus and wood and country leather.

‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I’ll just get my purse and phone.’

He waited politely outside, which impressed me. Seems I wasn’t the only one big on manners. I came back to him with purse and phone in hand and a stiff smile on my face.

‘How was your day?’ I asked.

‘Busy. How was yours?’

‘Long.’

He stood there looking at me for a long moment.

I smoothed my free hand down the side of my dress. ‘Is something wrong?’

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