Читать книгу The Boss's Surprise Son / Doctoring the Single Dad: The Boss's Surprise Son / Doctoring the Single Dad - Marie Ferrarella, Marie Ferrarella - Страница 12

AS A DISTRACTION, Buckingham Palace ranked right up there with chocolate and shopping in Savannah’s estimation. In fact, having a studly companion as she strolled the block fronting the majestic building and grounds didn’t suck either.

The snow-drenched grounds were well-lit, as was the massive building with majestic columns and row upon row of windows. And, of course, the beautiful Nash statue of Queen Victoria. It was awe-inspiring to consider the longevity and history incorporated in this palace. She definitely needed to come back for a tour.

“Thanks,” she said to Rick, blowing on her hands to warm them as the cold finally drove her to leave. “Ready for the fish and chips now?”

“You bet.” Rick stopped a local to ask after a good pub, and minutes later they were seated at a scarred wooden table in a room crowded with tables and people. Soccer and rugby equipment along with player jerseys lined the walls while a rugby game played on several mounted TVs. In a back room a rowdy group erupted with cheers and groans.

“Dart tournament tonight, folks,” a dark-haired waitress said as she stopped by the table. In her mid-forties, she was comfortably lush in a green T-shirt and blue jeans. “It’ll be pretty loud.”

“It’s perfect.” Savannah grinned at her. “I flat-out confess to being a tourist, so it’s all part of the experience for me.”

“Aye, and my guess is you’ll be wanting some fish and chips and a pint. Where do you come to us from?”

“San Diego.” Savannah rubbed her hands together. “Where it’s much warmer this time of year. And yes, I’m going to be totally typical and get the fish and chips. And what the heck, I’ll try the pint, too.”

“You got it, doll. I’ll bring you something pale.” She turned her attention to Rick. Friendly when she spoke to Savannah, her gaze turned downright predatory as it ran over his body. “How about you, sweet thing?”

Savannah hid a smile behind her hand as red color flooded his cheeks.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll have the same.”

“Aye, and I’ll bring you something dark.” She shifted closer to him with a roll of well-rounded hips. “You look man enough to handle it.”

With a lingering backward glance she disappeared into the crowd.

“Oh, she likes you,” Savannah teased him. “Just let me know if you need me to make myself scarce.”

“That woman just ate me alive with her eyes.” He shook his finger at Savannah. “Under no circumstances are you to leave me alone with that cougar.”

“Cougar?” She laughed. “Oh my, does she scare you?”

“I’m an intelligent man, so hell yeah.”

She grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect your virtue—or should I say manhood? I mean really, what if we were a couple?”

He pinned her with an intent stare. “Sweetheart, for the next hour, we are.”

“What? You don’t think she’d play by your rules?” How dangerous to play with him like this, but she couldn’t resist.

“The rules are there so no one gets hurt.” He defended his system with a flick of his eyes toward the bar and the woman under discussion. “She doesn’t look like she’s afraid of pain.”

“It hurts so good?” she teased provocatively.

His gaze flashed back to her. “You’re shocking me, Ms. Jones.”

Yeah, she’d rather shocked herself. “You brought it up. Besides, I’m not as innocent as you seem to think.”

“Sure you are,” he assured her, certainty clear as crystal in his tone, “and it has nothing to do with how many lovers you’ve had. You’re caring and giving. Genuine. You bring everyone around you to a higher level.”

“Wow,” she breathed, inordinately pleased by his assessment. She knew she got on his nerves sometimes and she was nowhere near his intellectual equal, so his comment touched her deeply. About to gush, she pulled herself back. He’d hate that. Instead she blessed him with a cheeky smile. “So you do like me.”

He grinned and shook his head. “Sometimes.”

“Uh-uh, be nice. Here comes the waitress with our food.”

He lifted one dark brow. “Maybe you’re not so innocent after all. You’ve got a mean streak.”

“Oh, I bet I’m just a kitten next to the cougar.”

“Just stay close.”

“I will, I promise.” She scooted back her chair. “As soon as I get back from the restroom.”

“What?” he demanded in mock outrage. “Some friend you are.”

“Come on, we both know you can handle her. Be right back.”

She made quick work of her trip to the bathroom, not because she was worried about Rick—he could take care of himself. But she was having fun and didn’t want to miss a minute of the adventure.

Over fish and chips they got involved in the rugby game, she rooting for Ireland while he cheered for Wales. The dart tournament got louder still, the waitress flirted some more and Savannah had a ball.

The game ended and they donned their coats and walked down the street toward Buckingham Palace to catch a cab. It amazed her that some of the shops were still open, but when she glanced at her watch it was only seven.

“Wait. In here.” Rick caught her hand. Startled by the searing touch she stopped in her tracks. He pulled her toward a leather and coat shop. “We can get you some gloves.”

“Oh, no,” She held back. “I’ll find some closer to the hotel.”

“Come on. Let’s at least see what they have.” He opened the door and ushered her inside.

The rich scent of leather pleasantly filled the small store. Savannah reluctantly followed Rick to the accessory section where he selected several pairs for her to try on. She did so, marveling at the suppleness and warmth. She particularly enjoyed a pair made of leather with a fleece lining; the quality and fit were exquisite. They were so soft, so warm she didn’t want to take them off. But she must.

“Those are a nice fit,” Rick said.

“Yes.” A little sad, a little embarrassed, she pulled them off. “Rick, it’s so nice of you to stop here, but, really, I can’t afford these.”

“But you like them?”

“Of course.” She placed them back on the rack. “But that’s not the point.”

“It’s exactly the point.” He retrieved the gloves and handed them to the hovering clerk along with a pair of men’s gloves. “We’ll take both.”

“Rick, no,” Savannah protested. “I can’t get these.”

“You’re not. I’m getting them.”

Touched, she still shook her head. “I can’t let you do that.”

“You have no choice. They’re a gift for your help today.” He handed the clerk his credit card.

“Rick, this isn’t necessary.”

“I know. I want to get them for you.” After pocketing his wallet he placed the bag in her hands. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” Letting the fun and ease of the evening direct her, she gave in to impulse and lifted onto her toes to kiss his cheek.

Desire flared in his eyes. He appeared to struggle with himself for a moment, then he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. For one glorious minute he consumed her, drawing a response from her that met his passionate demand.

When he pulled back, she’d all but forgotten where she was.

While she regrouped, he ran a finger down her cheek. “My apologies. That’s the last time that can happen.”

Not quite able to wrap her tongue around words, she nodded mutely.

With a return to his stoic expression, he stepped back. “We should head back to the hotel.”

Rick stared hard at his reflection in the mirror the next morning as he finished shaving. He didn’t look any different. Didn’t really feel different, but something was off.

Maybe it was jet lag or something in the water here in England, but there had to be an explanation for his uncharacteristic behavior. Playing tourist, flirting, kissing his assistant: Was he insane? He had no business having fun.

Okay, that was wrong. He deserved to have fun as much as the next guy. But not with Savannah. He had no business having fun with his assistant. The next time she wanted to play tourist she was on her own.

Huh, that thought certainly took the punch out of his day. He attributed the curious sense of letdown to delayed jet lag rather than to the disquieting notion of Savannah being out and about on her own. Not that she’d hesitate. The woman was fearless, which wasn’t the same as being safe. Though the Lord knew she made friends wherever she went. Take the cougar last night. Propositioning him in the hallway one moment and laughing like old friends with Savannah the next.

He tossed down the towel and reached for his deodorant.

The problem was, he’d had a great time last night.

Watching the game, sharing the camaraderie of the crowd, eating the simple but good food. And with Savannah seated across from him making him laugh.

Swish and rinse. Finished, he dropped his toothbrush in a cup and set his shaving kit aside.

Again she’d made him laugh. He enjoyed the company of women, but they didn’t engage him. He didn’t let them. But Savannah slid under his guard and challenged him in so many ways.

But it had to stop. No more laughing, no more flirting, no more giving her gifts, and certainly no more nibbling on her plump bottom lip.

Now he felt downright deflated. Yes, it was definitely jet lag.

The phone was ringing when he entered the parlor suite. Savannah sat at the table eating muffins for breakfast. She began to rise, but he waved her off and answered the phone himself.

It was Crosse calling to set up an appointment for four that afternoon.

“His attorneys are going over the changes and they’ll have a counteroffer to us within the next couple of days,” Rick told Savannah after hanging up the phone. “We’ll have two days to review and respond. He’s hoping we’ll be able to celebrate with dinner before we leave.”

“That’s great news,” she enthused. “Did he say what the changes were?”

“No, but he said they were minor. I’m not expecting anything too shocking.”

He was right. When the contract arrived and they reviewed the noted changes, most were in areas where Rick had already built in room for negotiation. Only one required him to get on the phone to the company attorney.

He and Savannah made a good team, taking care of the details and wrapping up loose ends. He felt great going into the meeting the next day.

His confidence was rewarded when an agreement was reached and the contracts were signed. The relief and satisfaction were huge, even more so than when he’d closed the deal with Emerson. Maybe because he’d come close to failing this time, something he wasn’t used to, but he didn’t think so; this fit felt right. He respected Crosse and they actually hit it off once they began to communicate properly.