No Love Allowed(15)

“Then tell me”—she looked straight at him—“why me?”

For asking that question, not with any kind of hostility or suspicion, but with what seemed like genuine curiosity, he respected her more. The answer was simple. “Because you were able to walk away at the dock the other day. That tells me you know your limits. But the real question is: Are you willing to help me?”

The fry she was about to pop into her mouth remained suspended. There went the cogs working again. She had such an honest face. She hid nothing, which might be a problem, considering he was convincing her to step into a world of smoke and mirrors.

Her answer came quick and curt. “Yes.”

Disbelief hit him square in the chest. Had she actually just agreed? Then relief followed, but before it could take root she followed up her response with: “Looks to me like this is a lot of trouble to go through for the plea sure of my company at parties.”

Smart and perceptive with a hint of spice for flavor. It was a lethal combination that he appreciated more than he cared to admit. His gut told him this was going to be a huge mistake. “I was accepted into Yale.”

“Impressive,” she said, but her face remained passive.

“And something my father wants.”

“Ah.” She nodded as if she had reached some conclusion. “You’re one of those.”

He challenged her by raising an eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”

“A Daddy Pleaser.” She set down her fry and stuck that maddening thumb into her mouth again and sucked.

“You are so off.”

“Really?”

She seemed genuinely interested, so he indulged her. “Going to Yale is the last thing I want.” He sighed, rubbing his jaw. “I also got accepted to two other universities, including Loyola. It was part of the deal.”

“What deal?”

“Senior year I made a deal with my father that if I got into Yale and at least two other places he would let me take a gap year.” The clarity in her eyes told him she was beginning to see the picture he was painting. But just so she understood him properly, he said, “Breaking up with Amber messed with my plans. Now if I don’t attend all the events and make nice with everyone, my father will not allow me to defer admission. It’s straight to Yale and the life he has mapped out for me.”

“And that’s your worst nightmare.”

“You’re getting it. Having you attend the parties with me will make things go smoother. I’ll be honest, with the first event looming, you’re my only option.”

“Burned through your harem of females, huh?”

“Please don’t make it sound . . .”

“Misogynistic?”

He hazarded a sip of his own drink to ease the drying of his throat and quickly gave up when the first tablespoon of sugar coated his tongue. “They all agreed to a no-strings-attached relationship. I made sure they understood the rules before we ever started dating.”

“And as soon as they broke one you cut them loose.”

“No. There’s only one rule I’m strict about enforcing.”

“And that is?”

In all seriousness, he said, “You cannot fall in love with me.”

“Me?” Didi let out a pfft sound. “Fall in love with you? Ha! More like the other way around.” She pointed at him for emphasis. “Have you ever considered that you might fall in love with me?”

He leaned back and smiled. “Don’t worry. Not going to happen.”

She shrugged that maddening one-shoulder shrug. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Pretending he didn’t notice that smug grin of hers, the one that tempted him to pull her across the table and kiss it away, he kept talking as she returned to her food. “Since we’re clear that feelings are off the table, here are a few more ground rules.” He tapped the table with a fingertip. “You need to attend all the events with me. This means you’ll have to be on call whenever I might need you. Do you have a curfew?”

“No,” she said without hesitation. “And since I don’t have a job right now, I’m all yours.”

Another shred of doubt unsettled him. “You’re taking this too casually. Won’t your parents mind?”

She thoughtfully munched on a particularly long strip of fry. No potato grew that big. “Why shouldn’t I take it casually? My mom juggles jobs like balls and my dad is out of the picture.”

“Dead?”

“More like deadbeat *.”

He grunted at her frank admission.

“It’s not like I have anything better to do besides paint. Plus, it’s attending parties. Who doesn’t like parties?”

Not him. He would rather be sitting by the pool reading and planning his trip, but she didn’t have to know that. “They aren’t just parties. You need to dress for them. Nothing like what you’re wearing now.”

“You really have a thing for what I wear, huh?”

For some reason his cheeks burned. “Dressing the part is important. You need to look presentable. That means dresses.”

As if insulted, she said, “I have dresses.”

“Good.” He nodded. “The first event is a garden party, so a summer dress would do.”