Page 57 of Ruthless Villain

Listen to me. The romantic inside me wants to think we’re star-crossed lovers. But we aren’t. We had a one-night stand, and as strong as the attraction is between us, I have to be sensible. My father has struck once again and I have no counterattack that sees me getting what I want.

A crisp gust of wind nips at my skin as Evan and I step outside, the chilly embrace of winter's remaining breath awakening my senses.

“What didhewant?” Evan asks when we get outside. “Looked like he wanted something else if he wasn’t there to book his interview.”

“He was passing through,” I lie. Evan buys it, but I doubt he’d press for further information even if he didn’t believe me.

“Watch out for that guy. He’s not your father’s favorite person.”

“But you are?” I fill in, flashing him a knowing smile.

Evan grins back. “I get on well with your father, and I respect him. That’s how he knew I’d respect you, too.”

“That’s nice to hear.” I smile even though I don’t fully believe him. There’s an edge of slyness to him I know to be wary of. I also believe he’s around to report everything back to my father.

“The restaurant is just over here.” He points to a charming bistro across the street, adorned with quaint awnings and wrought-iron chairs on the cobblestone terrace.

“Cool.”

“I thought so, too.”

We go inside and are seated by the window.

The waitress takes our order and since we both decided on a light meal the food arrives quickly.

I never knew at the time that the meal would become a welcomed diversion to Evan’s monotonous droning about himself.

I feign interest as I listen to him talk and instead think about Luc. My father's desires for me might be well-intentioned, but he doesn’t know what I want. Or what I need.

The chemistry between Evan and I is noticeably nonexistent, and I don’t know what he could do to garner my interest.

While he talks enthusiastically about hockey and his hundred and one hobbies, my attention wanes. At one point I fear I might fall asleep.

Evan seems either unaware of my lack of enthusiasm or he’s so full of himself that he can’t conceive I would not be interested in him.

When he gets on to talking about how many women he’s dated just this year alone, I find myself counting down the minutes and wishing my life were different.

Why did my father have to have a problem with Luc?

Why couldn’t it be Evan?

I’m saved from my thoughts, and Evan’s life story, when my phone rings.

I fish in my purse for it and almost jump for joy when I see it’s Harvey.

My God.This is the call I’ve been waiting for since I sent off my request to him to do the story about the Vanderville Manor.

“I’m so sorry, I have to take this,” I tell Evan, pushing to my feet before he can even answer.

“No worries.”

I go outside and answer the phone so I can have some privacy to speak freely.

“Harvey,” I beam, sounding like I’m talking to a long-lost friend I’ve just been reunited with.

“My dear. It’s so great to hear your voice.”

“And you.”

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