by Swan, T L
“His name is Spencer Jones and I’m going out to dinner with him. I won’t be needing you again tonight. You may go home now,” I instruct with annoyance. If I wasn’t going out with Spencer before, I sure am now just to piss you off.
Satisfaction flashes across Spencer’s face.
“You know I can’t do that,” Wyatt replies. “I’ll be outside in the car if you need me.” He hangs up.
I clench my jaw in frustration. I hate being followed all the time. I have no privacy whatsoever.
“Everything all right?” Spencer asks.
“Yes.” I fake a smile as I glance over to the car. “That was my security, I’m sorry. It’s very distracting, even for me.”
“So, you really do have security?” Spencer glances across the road to Wyatt. “Ha, fancy that. I thought they were joking.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I was told at the wedding that I wouldn’t be able to get near you because you were guarded. I actually thought they meant your brother.”
I drop my head in embarrassment. God, everyone knows about this stuff now? I had no idea. “I’m sorry, this isn’t normal, I know.”
Spencer puts his hands in his pockets, and the two of us begin to walk. “Why do you need security?”
We walk towards the restaurant strip. “My father is…” I pause because I hate saying this. “Wealthy, and he’s constantly concerned for my safety.”
“What happens if I kiss you at dinner?”
I laugh and raise my brows. “That’s very presumptuous, Mr Spencer.”
“Spence,” he corrects me. “My friends call me Spence.”
“Spence.” I smile.
“What do I call you?”
“Charlotte,” I reply without hesitation.
“Like that, is it?” He links his arm through mine. “What do your friends call you?”
“Do you want to be my friend?”
“Maybe.”
I smile at his ease with me. He’s very familiar and seems to have no insecurities at all.
“I really did think the whole security thing was a joke,” he says casually.
“I wish it was.” I glance back to Wyatt sitting in the car watching the two of us. “Does it bother you to have him watch us?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“What actually does happen if I kiss you? What will he do?”
I smile. “Probably knock you out unconscious,” I tease. Truthfully, I have no idea because Wyatt hasn’t seen me kiss anyone before.
Spencer stops and turns me to face him. “What about if I do it in private?”
Our eyes lock.
What is it about this man? He just gets straight to the point. I’ve never met anyone quite like him. He’s so brash.
“My private time is completely private.” I smile softly up at him.
The air between us crackles.
“You’re all I’ve thought about this week,” he says.
My nerves bubble in my stomach and, unsure what to say, I turn away, relinking my arm with his. We turn the corner to the main street of town.
“Where do we go?” he asks, looking around.
I gesture up the street. “There is a restaurant up the road a little.”
He takes my hand in his and picks it up to kiss the back of it.
My eyes flicker to Wyatt in the car that is following us slowly from a distance. I know he can still see us. It feels awkward being with a man while Wyatt watches.
“Don’t worry about him, worry about me,” Spencer says. His eyes hold mine with a tender glow, and he smiles softly down at me, clearly seeing that I’m uncomfortable with Wyatt watching on.
God, he’s beautiful.
“So, this is where you live? Nottingham.”
I nod. “Uh-huh.”
“Beautiful.”
I smile as my heart begins to beat faster. Like you, I think to myself.
We arrive at the restaurant, walk in and wait at the desk.
“Table for two?” he asks a passing waiter.
“Of course, sir. Just this way.” The waiter smiles.
Spencer pulls out my chair and I take a seat.
Robert, a man that I know who works here, is on his shift. He sees me and immediately smiles. “Hi, Lottie.”
“Hi, Rob,” I say as I flick open the menu.
Spencer opens his menu, too. “Who’s he?” he asks, pretending to be uninterested.
“My ex-husband.”
Spencer’s eyes shoot up.
“Got you.”
“I didn’t realise you were a comedian,” he replies dryly. “He gets to call you Lottie and I don’t?”
“Comedy is one of my hidden talents.” I smirk as I read the menu. “And I’m Charlotte to you at this point.”
His eyes hold mine and a trace of a smile crosses his face. It’s as if he just accepted a silent challenge that I don’t know about. “I’ll add it to the list then,” he mutters.
“There’s a list?”
His eyes stay glued to the menu. “There is a big list.”
“Of what?”
“Being gorgeous and whatnot.”
I bite my lip as I watch him. Lara was right, he is simply delicious.
Robert comes over to our table. “Can I take your order?”
Spencer peruses the menu, and then looks back up at me. “How far is your house from here?”
“Not far.”
“Okay, shall we have some wine?”
I nod. This feels terribly grown up for a Thursday. “Okay.”
“What’s good on the menu?” He frowns, looking over the choices.
“The Aloft Cab Sav is nice,” I whisper nervously. He makes me feel like a timid little girl.
“Okay, we’ll have a bottle, please.” He closes his drinks menu and hands it over. “We’ll order our meal in a little while, please.”
Robert walks away, and Spencer’s eyes fall to my face.
“Why are you here, Mr Spencer?” I ask him.
He smiles softly and leans towards the table, steepling his hands under his chin. “I wanted to see you.”
“Why?”
“You’re on my mind.”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
I like that he wanted to see me.
Our drinks arrive and we both sit in relative silence, neither of us knowing what to say.
“How old are you, Charlotte?” he asks softly.
“I think I answered that question before. Too young for you, Mr Spencer.” I smile over at him.
“Well, I’m twenty-five,” he says seriously. “With thirteen years’ experience.”
I do the maths. He’s thirty-eight.
“And I’m twenty- four… with no experience.”
His eyes twinkle with delight. Maybe he thought I was younger than that.
We sip our drinks in an uncomfortable silence, once again.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.”
He frowns as he tries to articulate himself. “And you’re not secretly in love with your bodyguard?”
“Certainly not. You’ve been watching too many movies, Mr Spencer.” I laugh.
He puts his hand on his chest, faking his relief. “That’s good to hear. I can’t compete with bodyguards and shit like that.” He winks at me. “Although I do practice karate.”
We both chuckle and our eyes linger on each other’s. There is this mutual affection between us. For me, it’s that he speaks so unguarded, as though he already knows me, but maybe it’s just all his experience with women that make him this way. He’s not nervous around me like most men, and his confidence is very attractive.
I would give anything to know what’s on his mind.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“That depends.” He leans forward.
“On what?”
“I’m running a risk assessment in my mind as to whether I’m going to get beaten to a pulp if
I kiss you.”
I smile bashfully.
It would be worth it.
The moment is broken by the waiter returning with our bottle of wine. He pops the cork and pours a little into both our wineglasses.
“Thank you.” I take a sip. “Hmm.” I eye the glass of burgundy liquid. “That’s nice.”
Spencer holds his glass in the air. “A toast.”
“To what?” I ask.
His eyes hold mine. “Our first date.”
I smile softly.
“May there be many more,” he whispers darkly, clinking his glass to mine before he takes a sip. “You know I wrote your name in my diary on Monday morning.”
I smile. “Why?’
“Because when I want something, I write it down.” He smirks.
I giggle. “That not at all creepy.”
He chuckles.
I take a mouthful of wine and think for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Why would you drive all the way out here to see me without calling first?”
“Because I knew if I called you that you wouldn’t want to see me.”
His eyes drop to my lips, and then back up to my eyes with a hunger I haven’t felt before. The air between us becomes electric. God, the way he looks at me sets me on fire.
“Has someone hurt you in the past?” he asks.
I stare at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Physically, has someone hurt you?”
“What? No.” I frown. “Why would you say that?”
“You seemed frightened of me on Saturday night.”
I drop my head in embarrassment. I know he means when I felt his erection. It terrified me if I’m honest, and I hate that he sensed it.
“I didn’t know where my father’s guards were,” I whisper. “I don’t do that sort of thing in public.”
His eyes hold mine, and he reaches over the table to take my hand in his. “What about in private, Charlotte? What sort of thing do you do in private?”
We stare at each other for a moment. What can I say here without sounding promiscuous? “Private things,” I whisper.
“I should like to spend time with you in private sometime.”
I sit back, affronted by his gall. “Are you here simply for sex, Mr Spencer?”
He frowns. “Stop calling me that.”
“It’s your name, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but you call me that when you are pushing me away.”
“I’m merely asking you a question. There was no pushing involved.”
“I’m attracted to you, yes.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“Am I here only for sex? No. Have I wondered what it would be like to have intimate relations with you? Yes.”
Intimate relations.
My breath catches as I stare at him. He is the first man in my entire life who has had the guts to come onto me, and I find myself fighting a smile. “Why?”
“You’re beautiful and different than most women.”
“So, you only pursue beautiful women?” I ask. “I’m curious as to what makes a man like you tick, that’s all.” I shrug, hoping that I haven’t just crossed a line.
He smiles and takes my hand over the table again. “Ask me anything you want. I have nothing to hide. I’m very honest. Perhaps too honest.”
“Then do you only date beautiful women?” I ask again. God, how did we get onto this subject?
“I only date women that are beautiful to me.” He frowns as he thinks for a moment. “Although lately my tastes have become very eclectic.”
“How so?”
“Being beautiful and nothing else doesn’t do it for me anymore.” He picks up my hand and kisses my fingertips. I feel the effect of it all the way to my toes.
I stare at him, lost for words, but with so much to say.
“You, for example,” he continues. “The things that attracted me to you have kept me awake at night all week.”
“Such as?”
“You’re innately feminine. You have a confident air about you, but then...” He pauses. “When I touched you, you were frightened of me.”
I stare at him, heart fluttering and words lost.
“I’m guessing you are very intelligent and articulate, but you’re kept in an ivory palace by your brother so that men can’t get to you, which means you definitely don’t sleep around.”
How does he know this?
“I believe that you will probably end up marrying someone of your family’s choosing who is extremely wealthy, and you’ll live a life of luxury—one that is expected of you.”
I sit back in my chair, appalled by his assumptions… mainly because they are true.
“This is what you’ve been thinking about all week?” I sip my wine. “And here I was thinking that you were imagining how to pleasure me during those intimate relations you spoke of.” I roll my eyes in disgust. “You’re a disappointment, Spencer Jones.”
He laughs, deep and loud, and I feel it all the way through my bones. “I don’t need to imagine how to please you in bed. I know how to do that, without a doubt.”
Oh, I like this guy, he’s so different than anyone I’ve ever met before.
“Well, you’re wrong about one thing,” I say. “If I ever choose to marry, I’m marrying for love and my family will have nothing to do with it. And what about you, Spencer? Why are you single at the age of thirty-eight?”
He smiles and leans back in his chair. “Now, that is the million-dollar question. I could tell you some random bullshit about not finding the right girl.”
“Bullshit?”
He shrugs. “I have found the right girl. Over and over, I’ve found the right girl.”
“But?” That wasn’t the answer I was expecting at all.
“I haven’t found anyone who is worth fighting myself over.”
“Fighting yourself?” I ask. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s hard to explain.”
I sit forward in my seat, fascinated by the man in front of me. “Try.”
He smiles a slow, sexy smile, and he sips his wine, his dark eyes holding mine. “This is not the conversation I imagined us having tonight.”
“Likewise.” I smile. This conversation is refreshingly honest.
He sighs softly. “I love women, I love sex, and I love my independence.”
I choose not to respond.
“And I am not in the business of hurting people, so I don’t risk it.”
“Risk it?”
“I couldn’t be with someone, be in love, and then be unfaithful. It’s just not who I am. Hence why I’ve chosen not to be with just one woman thus far.”
“But you have friends with benefits?”
“Yes.”
“Is that what you want with me?”
A trace of a frown crosses his face. “Surprisingly… no.”
“What do you want from me then?”
He stares at me. “That’s what I’m here trying to work out.”
Our meal arrives, and we begin to eat in silence. He seems comfortable, but my mind is racing. What the hell is this date about? What does he want from me? For a long time, I eat in silence as I troll through my brain for a logical answer…
And then I get it.
This is how he does it.
This is how he gets women to sleep with him with no strings attached. He’s so honest and heartfelt, you want to slip straight into being one of his friends with benefits… because he assures you that there is no chance of getting hurt.
These women all know what they are signing up for and they don’t care.
And right at this moment, I would give my right arm for him to take me home for some of his so-called intimate relations. I get a vision of the all the images of him with women from Google, and I cringe. Being one of those stupid girls is the last thing I need.
Stop it.
Don’t fall for this crap.
&nbs
p; He’s a player …and his game is strong.
I need to change the subject. “What do you do for work, Spencer?”
“Spence,” he corrects me.
“Spence.” I smile around my mouthful of food.
“I am an architect and I own a steel manufacturing company.”
I frown as I chew. “How do those two things merge together?”
“I used to design skyscrapers. In the designing process I found a niche in the market that wasn’t being met, so I designed a new form of steel. I now ship to most first-world countries, and I have around four hundred staff working for me.”
I smile as I watch him become all animated. He’s proud of himself. I raise my glass to him and he clinks it with his. “Well done.” I smile. “That’s amazing.”
“Thank you. It’s been hard work to get where I am. What do you do for work?” he asks.
“I studied law and commerce, and then I went to work for a cause my mother loved dearly. I’ve been there ever since.”
“You don’t use your degree?”
“No, unfortunately not.” I smile. “One day, hopefully, it will come in use. I have this wild idea that may come to fruition when the time is right.”
He smiles and pats the corners of his mouth with his serviette.
“And your family? Tell me about them,” I ask.
“I have a sister and a brother. My sister is a stay at home mother now, my brother a surgeon. My mother lives near London. I see them all the time.”
“And your father?”
“Is a piece of shit who I wouldn’t spit on,” he answers coolly. “I legally changed my name to Jones on my thirteenth birthday… my mother’s name.”
I sit back, surprised at his venom. “You don’t get on?”
“I hate him with a passion.” He sips his drink. “Next subject, please.”
“Oh.” I sip my wine, flustered by his hatred of his own father. I wonder what that’s about? I’ve never known anyone who despises their father.
“Tell me about your family,” he says, obviously desperate to change the subject.
“Well, I live on my father’s estate in my own house. ”
He smiles softly as he listens and continues to sip his wine.
“I have two brothers. Edward has a heart of gold but is so worried about my safety that it’s almost unbearable. Then I have a brother, William, who lives in Switzerland with his wife and baby.”