Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(29)

The man nodded and headed down the hall, his back to them. Gretchen peered out the door, watching him. Then she looked at Hunter. “Who’s that?” she whispered.

“My bodyguard.”

“I see. So you’re ditching me tonight?”

Two spots of color flushed in his pale cheeks. “That’s not what I . . . that is, I—”

“I guessed it as soon as I saw the suit. Though I admit, you do clean up nice. I’m a little sad the suit isn’t for me.” Not that she’d ever seen him wear anything but suits, but her flirty words seemed to be working. He was definitely blushing.

His gaze moved, darting about the room, looking anywhere but at her. “I came to give you my apologies. I can’t make it to dinner tonight. A business meeting was scheduled and I find that I cannot move it.”

“No worries.” Gretchen twirled one of the ends of her robe. “Thanks for letting me know, though.”

He shifted on his feet, and then tugged at his collar, seemingly more uncomfortable by the moment. “I would, however, like if we were to meet for dinner tomorrow night instead.”

“Tomorrow’s fine.”

“Good.” His voice was curt. “Very good. Good. That’s . . .”

“Good?” she offered. He was adorable.

He gave her another scathing look, but Gretchen only smiled. She was starting to realize his defense mechanisms. God, why had she not seen this before? Suddenly it was so obvious . . . and so sexy that she drove him so crazy.

She took a step forward, wanting to tease him a little. “May I?” She gestured at his tie.

He looked down at it, frowning.

“It’s crooked,” she lied, moving forward and pretending to adjust the tie. It was more or less an excuse to move into his arms and see how he’d react.

He stiffened, but didn’t move away.

She took that as an encouraging sign and continued to adjust his tie. Then she smoothed a hand down the front of it, noting the hard muscle underneath. “All better.”

Hunter’s attention was definitely on her now, and she noticed the look in his eyes was hungry. It emboldened her and made her think of her outrageous idea from earlier.

“Hunter?”

“Hmm?” He seemed distracted, almost dazed.

She reached for the loose collar of her robe and pulled it open. Stepping back, she flashed him her br**sts.

He stared, frozen in place.

“Now we’re even,” she told him lightly. “The field is leveled. Enjoy your meeting tonight.”

And she closed her robe and sauntered back into her room, grinning the entire time.

Chapter 6

One week later

The trouble with a flirt battle was that both parties had to actively participate. Both parties had to know how to actually flirt.

And Gretchen had been flirting her head off, but she was getting nowhere fast.

It wasn’t that Hunter wasn’t interested. If anything, he seemed more interested than ever. But when she teased, he froze up. When she coyly suggested things, he shut down.

When she’d made him dinner, he’d stared at her in silence, and her attempts at conversation had fallen completely flat. Her pleasure at showing him her cooking had been deflated by the fact that he’d looked as if he’d wanted to escape the room.

And yet . . . she continued to get roses every day. Delicate, scented blooms that were thoughtfully selected for her, along with a note inviting her to dinner. She’d declined it once or twice, just to see how he’d react.

He hadn’t reacted at all. And that had been even more frustrating.

She’d tried being sexy. In fact, she’d offered to help him in the greenhouse one day and had unbuttoned her shirt, declaring herself overheated and exposing a lot of skin. All she’d gotten was an abrupt suggestion that she take a shower and him turning away.

Not exactly the reaction she’d wanted. She was utterly mystified. How could she break through to him? She supposed she could state it baldly. I’d really like it if you and I did a little mutual exploring. I’ll even go first.

But she was enjoying the challenge. And screaming out that she desired him seemed almost like a cop out. Plus, he’d probably run for the hills.

Virgins were so much trouble.

The letters weren’t helping things, either. Now that things had escalated between Lula and Benedict, they weren’t holding back at all. Letter after letter went into great detail of what Lula would do to Benedict with her mouth, and how she’d please him. He’d write pages back to her, describing how he’d like to lay her down under the trees, spread her petals wide, and lick her nectar clean. By the time she finished a day of the letters, Gretchen was squirming and overheated, her imagination on fire. She kept picturing Hunter as Benedict, and herself as Lula. Each graphic description left her breathing hard and her panties wet.

There had to be a way to get through to Hunter.

***

It was during one of their frequent dinners that Gretchen found a chink in Hunter’s icy armor.

Her phone rang while they were in the midst of a quiet conversation. Surprised, Gretchen picked up her phone and gave an apologetic look to Hunter. “I should take this.”

She rarely got calls out of the blue, so any sort of call concerned her. Especially if it was coming from Cooper’s Cuppa.