Page 29 of Forbidden Romeo

“This is perfect,” I say in between gulps.

“I brought milk and sugar if you’d like?” he tries again.

I shake my head. “Black is fine. I never usually have time to find milk when I’m working, so it kinda became a habit.”

“And where would work be, exactly?” Jack presses.

The coffee cup crumples a little in my hand, and I place it as casually as I can back on the table.

“That’s kind of a second date sort of question,” I reply lightly, hoping he’ll just drop it.

“Aimee.”

“What?”

He clasps his hands together, taking in a deep breath. “I need to know.”

I freeze. “Need to know what?”

“If you’re… you know…” Jack suddenly looks serious.

If I wasn’t so terrified that I’d somehow given myself away and Jack was about to sell me out to my enemy—or worse, myfamily—I might have thought the look on his face was incredibly cute.

“I’m what?” I reply calmly.

“I don’t know! Like an escort or something.”

I blink at him. Then again. Taking in his nervous body language, the way he’s grabbing at his clasped hands.

He’s being deadly serious.

“You think I’m awhat?”

I leap up from the bed, and he staggers back a step or two, throwing his hands in the air in surrender.

“I’m sorry, okay? You were just being so elusive, I thought—”

“Do I look like a sex worker to you?” My voice rises in disbelief.

Jack goes white as a sheet, taking another few steps back. “No! I mean, you’re beautiful and, quite frankly, incredible in bed–-”

I push him for that. My hands connect with his rock-hard abs, and he has the decency to stagger back a little, even though I'm fairly certain he didn’t feel it at all.

“I completely respect sex work as a viable profession. It’s just that I had an amazing night, and I wanted to make sure—”

I square up to him. “Choose your next words very.Very.Carefully.”

For all his confidence, Jack finally seems to be at a loss.

“I wanted to make sure I was the best you’d ever had?”

I push him again. Hard.

… And he falls into the pool with an almighty splash.

When he resurfaces, the look of pure shock, outrage, and confusion on his face immediately has me doubling over in laughter. His shirt balloons around his ears, and he tries to remove it with little success, only making me laugh even harder. I have to dab away the tears that formed in my eyes by the time he finally removes it.

“Guess I deserved that,” he mutters, and when I look up at him again, his expression has lost some of its bite.

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