Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
We head to the bar and it’s weird. I’ve only known the man next to me for a few weeks, yet to anyone watching, we probably look like we’ve known each other for years. That’s how it feels too.
The waiter immediately appears and I order a glass of wine. Ben orders a martini. Even his drink order speaks volumes about who he is. He doesn’t give a crap what anyone else thinks, he just knows what he wants.
“Before I forget,” I say, “I have something for you.”
I dig into my jeans pocket and pull out the ring box.
“Are you proposing?” he asks with a smile.
I tilt my head to one side. “This is yours.”
His expression doesn’t change and he doesn’t say anything. He just picks the box up from the table where I placed it and tucks it into his breast pocket, almost like he doesn’t want anyone to notice what he’s doing.
My fingers trace the space on the table where the box was, and I’m not sure if it’s deliberate, but as Ben reaches for his drink, his fingers scrape mine. Our eyes lock, and I want to ask him to come back upstairs with me and spend the night in my bed.
But I don’t.
I wish I knew what he was thinking. I want to ask him what he’s going to do with the ring. Will he keep it for the woman he actually proposes to? I feel a little queasy at the thought. I need to distract myself. “So what happened? You spoke to the duke?”
He nods. “Yes.”
“How was that?”
He pauses. It’s his thinking pause, and I sit back patiently while he decides what to say.
“Overdue.” Most people would look at him and say he is unreadable, but I know him well enough now to catch the slight softness in his gaze, and the way those lips sit with a little dip on the left, to know he’s disappointed.
I wish I could have helped him more. But we would have actually had to be engaged and gotten married for things to have worked out.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say that again. I should never have asked you to be part of this ridiculous charade. I lost sight of what was important.”
“But getting the hotels is important to you,” I say, leaving room for him to tell me why.
Neither of us says anything as the waiter places our appetizers in front of us. But when we’re alone again, without prompting, Ben says, “I lost sight of the end goal. Without my integrity I undo everything I’ve worked to achieve.” I’m not quite sure what he means by “end goal,” but before I get a chance to ask, he says, “He asked after you.” He pauses again, and I know he’s trying to find exactly the right thing to say. “They’re good people.”
“Wonderful people,” I reply. “You might still have a chance at buying the hotels. The duchess is desperate for the duke to sell. Why not to you?”
“You were there for the conversation with Nick. He wants a family man.”
Isn’t it better to have a man of integrity? That’s what Ben is.
“I got a message from the duchess earlier.” I pull my phone from my bag to see if I missed something in her text that might help. “She wants to meet me for tea.”
“I’m sure you can think of an appropriate excuse.”
“Maybe I should go,” I suggest.
“You don’t need to,” he says.
If I went, maybe I could persuade her that Ben is a good man who’d do a great job running the hotels. She might influence the duke to sell to him anyway. “I can sing your praises and tell her how wonderful you are.” Because that would be the truth. “How you keep your word and do exactly what you say you’re going to do.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but there’s a chance. The only problem is, I’m not sure she’ll believe I’ve walked away from Ben. He’s the entire package. Good-looking and sexy, which are two entirely different things. Jed was good-looking, but I never found him sexy. Maybe it was because we’d been together for too long. Ben exudes a confidence, a self-assurance, that has nothing to do with how handsome he is. It just rings out to anyone who listens. He’s got a core of steel. He’s also kind and thoughtful and one hell of a dancer. No one would leave Ben if they didn’t have to.
“Tell me about your work at the bank,” he says out of nowhere. Does he not want to talk about this? Is he completely heartbroken about the hotels?
“What do you mean?”
He frowns and shakes his head. “Tell me how you started there, what you hope to achieve.”
“What?” But what I mean is, Why? We’ve spent countless hours together over the past few weeks, and this is the first time Ben has asked for specifics about my job. I assumed he was avoiding the topic because of how painfully boring it is, but maybe he’s looking for a quick exit from the subject of the hotels.