Mr Spencer(46)

“Yes, the universities are wonderful over there,” Leoni says.

I inhale sharply as I try to focus on what she is saying, although I’m quite sure she can see steam shooting out of my ears.

Was it him?

Did she sleep with Alexander fucking York?

My nostrils flare in fury and I tip my head back to skull from my beer. This woman will be the death of me. The two of them walk through the crowd, and Charlotte finds my gaze and falters, as if shocked.

She’s wearing a gold crystal-beaded dress, and her thick honey hair is set into large curls. She looks curvy, glamorous, and beautiful.

Perfect.

My cock instantly hardens with appreciation…and she’s fucking here with someone else.

I put my hand into the pocket of my black dinner suit and stare at her, my eyebrow rising involuntarily.

I’m livid and force myself to look away.

Leonie keeps banging on about the most boring thing I’ve ever heard and Charlotte stands still, her hands both clutching her gold purse nervously as Alexander stops to talk to someone. She can’t even look at me, while I can’t look away.

I’ve caught her out. This is why she won’t see me. She’s fucking him.

Agreeing to the date on Sunday night was probably just to shut me up.

I want to storm over there and drag her out of here.

I inhale deeply, trying to get a hold of myself. It’s been a long time since a woman has gotten to me like Charlotte Prescott has. If ever.

I don’t like it, I don’t trust it, and I don’t fucking want it… much to Masters’ and Seb’s amusement. They’ve told me that I am, without a doubt, the stupidest man on Earth to say that to a woman. I agree with them.

Lesson learned.

I tip my head back and drain my beer.

Alexander keeps talking then Charlotte says something to him and walks over to a table. When she gets there, she turns and walks back to the bar where I am standing, approaching me slowly.

“Excuse me.” I smile at Leonie as she talks.

“Oh, sure.” She frowns.

“Hello, Spence.” Charlotte smiles up at me.

“Hi,” I push out.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” she says nervously.

I stare at her, physically biting my tongue from, once again, losing control and showing my feelings.

“You’re here on a date?” I ask flatly.

Charlottes eyes widen. “No. God, no. Alexander is a family friend, that’s all.”

I stare at her as she dusts my arm with her hand. “Honestly, I swear.”

Relief fills me, and I smirk, feeling stupid.

“Were you jealous?” she asks.

“Green-eyed monster jealous.” I sip my beer.

She’s all big lips and dimples, and I feel my lust for her all the way to my balls.

“I wish I was alone with you,” I say. Damn it, why does this woman make me blurt shit out?

Her eyes hold mine. I feel like she wants to say something, but she remains silent.

“How was your day?” I ask to make conversation.

“Good.” She smiles. “I was waiting for a phone call. Weren’t you calling me today?”

I smile, my anger dissipating. “I was waiting until I got home tonight and was naked in my bed.”

Her breath catches.

“I wanted to touch myself to the sound of your voice,” I confess.

She smirks and the air between us crackles, our eyes locked.

“You are a scoundrel, Mr Spencer,” she whispers.

I dip my head, pick up her hand, and I kiss the back of it. “At your service, my lady.”

Her hand stays in mine for an extended time and eventually good manners prevail. “Would you like a glass of champagne?”

She smiles. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

“Back in a moment.” I walk to the bar and wait in line to order our drinks.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” someone growls from behind me.

I turn to see Alexander York. “I’m getting a drink, you idiot, what does it look like?”

“I mean what the hell do you think you’re doing talking to Charlotte Prescott?”

I turn to him as my anger begins to pump. “Charlotte is none of your concern.”

“The hell she isn’t. We’ve been family friends all of our lives, and she’s way out of your fucking league.”

Unable to help myself, I smile smugly. “What’s the matter, York? You jealous?”

“Fuck you.”

I really want to say, that’s what she’s going to do later, but I hold my tongue.

“I saw you kiss her hand. What do you think you’re doing with her?”

I turn to him, raise our two champagne glasses, and throw him a wink. “Whatever the fuck I want to.”





8





Charlotte


Spencer appears through the crowd and comes to stand beside me. He passes me my drink and we clink glasses. “Thank you.” I smile.

His glowing eyes linger on my face.

“You’re staring, Mr Spencer.” I get butterflies in my stomach when he looks at me like that.

“I know,” he whispers. “I can’t help it.”