Page 21 of Forbidden Romeo

“Persuading women that an evening with me could change their life.”

She bites her lip a little as if concealing her amusement. “If they need persuading, you’re probably not as good as you think.”

I smirk at her. “Would you like to find out?”

There’s a beat where I just stand over her, challenging her to move closer. The air between us is thick with intense electricity. For a moment, I think she’s going to give in to me and close the distance between us.

But something rational flickers across her eyes, and she ducks out from under me quickly, clearing her throat. “Well, I wish you luck tomorrow.”

I straighten up with a sigh. It was worth a shot. “Will I see you then?”

“I have to go back to work,” she admits, albeit dejectedly.

“Well,” I say without moving an inch, “I suppose this is goodbye then.”

“Yes… um… goodbye… er?”

I reach out a hand for her to shake. “Jack.”

She takes it. “Aimee.”

I don’t let go of her hand. The feeling of it slotted perfectly in mine is intoxicating. I don’t want to say goodbye to her; I don’t want to leave now, knowing I might lose her in the crowds of New York and never see her again. It’s such a strange and impulsive idea—but I’ve never been one to resist temptation like this.

I give it one last shot.

“You know, I would hate for this dinner reservation to go to waste….”

“I would love to,” Aimee blurts out.

It’s adorable, optimistic,hopeful.Everything I’m not, but everything Iwant.

I feel my face split into a huge smile.

“Then it’s a date.”

Chapter Six

Aimee

One minute I was watching a very mediocre musical and making small talk with a sound technician, cursing out every movie that ever told me New York was just a romantic fantasy waiting to happen.

The next minute I bump into the most attractive man I have ever met. A gorgeous, leather jacket-clad casting agent is shamelessly coming on to me in the middle of an alleyway.

I’m tempted to look around for cameras because this right here isn’t real life. Handsome strangers don’t just waltz up to you and offer to take you out for dinner on a whim. Surely Roisin or someone is paying this guy?

But as we walk through the streets of New York together, it becomes apparent that whatever this is, it’s really happening. I don’t miss the way the women we pass do a double take at Jack as they walk by. Yet the man himself has barely taken his eyes off me.

“So,” I say, raising an unimpressed brow at a blonde woman who’s practically gawking at him. “Where are we going?”

“My family owns a hotel just up here,” Jack replies as if telling me the weather.

It’s my turn to gawk at him. “Sorry, did you just say youowna hotel?”

“My father does,” he clarifies.

I shake my head. “Please tell me it’s like a cutesy little B&B with no air-con and not like—”

We come to a stop outside a sleek skyrise with a concierge out front. Jack looks at me expectantly.

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