Mr Spencer(48)

“My family have rigid rules.” I shrug. “That’s why I’ve moved to London. I just want to be Lottie for a while.”

She smiles. “That’s why I moved to London, too.”

“How did you and Julian meet?” I ask.

She smirks as her eyes seek him out. “I was his nanny.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

She nods. “Yep. Cliché, isn’t it?”

I bite my bottom lip, and I take a look Julian’s way. “So, he was your boss?”

“Uh-huh. I thought I was coming over here to work for a woman, and when he picked me up from the airport I nearly died.”

I make eye contact with Spencer at the bar, and he gives me a sexy wink. My stomach flips and I have to drag my eyes back to Bree.

“It was all forbidden attraction and fireworks. Anyway, that’s enough of me, let’s talk about you and Spencer.”

My face falls.

“Oh.” She frowns. “What’s that look?”

“Nothing.” I sigh.

“You can talk to me. I won’t say anything, I promise.”

I stare at her for a moment.

She crosses her finger over her chest. “I promise.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. His playboy ways are…” My voice trails off.

She offers an understanding nod. “I can imagine.”

“It does kind of make you wonder, you know?” I shrug.

She glances over at the four men over at the bar. “The thing is, Charlotte, when you date a thirty-seven-year-old man who has never been married before, he’s going to have some baggage with him.”

I look for Spencer and, once again, catch him watching me. My heart skips a beat and I turn back to Bree. “What was Julian’s baggage?”

“God, what wasn’t Julian’s baggage? It wouldn’t fit into this ballroom.” She smirks with an eye roll.

She, too, looks at Spencer, and she smiles watching him watching me. “The way Spencer looks at you…” She hesitates.

I wait for her to finish the sentence, but she doesn’t. “What?” I whisper.

“I haven’t seen him look at a woman the way he looks at you, ever.”

Hope blooms in my chest, and Spencer comes back to stand with us again.

“How handsome that Joshua Stanton is,” Bree says without missing a beat.

“He’s okay, I guess.” Spencer’s mischievous eyes find mine. “Not as handsome as me, though, is he, angel?” He links our pinky fingers together.

My heart skips a beat at him calling me angel in front of everyone.

“No, Spence.” I smile sarcastically and release my finger from his grip. “No man could ever be as handsome as you.”

Our eyes linger on each other, the air between us crackling.

Bree fans her face with her hand. “Good lord, the sexual tension between you two is ridiculous.”

I drop my head and chuckle, embarrassed that we just forgot she was here with us.

This man makes me giddy.

“A word, Charlotte,” Alexander demands, appearing from nowhere.

I turn, suddenly remembering that I’m here with him. Damn it, how could I forget that?

I fake a smile. “Of course.” I suddenly feel awkward. “Alex, please meet my friends Spencer and Brielle,” I say.

“We know each other,” Spencer says flatly.

Alex nods, and they glare at each other.

I frown at the obvious animosity between them.

This is awkward.

“I’ll see you later, Bree. It was lovely meeting you.” I’m in a fluster.

“You, too, Lottie. Come back and see us later.” Bree smiles warmly.

“I will!” I call over my shoulder as Alexander leads me through the ballroom, over to the wall at the back of the room.

“What are you doing talking with Spencer Jones?” he asks angrily.

I frown. “What does it matter to you?”

“Do you know who he is?”

I twist my lip in annoyance. “No, why don’t you tell me who you think he is?”

“He’s the biggest womaniser in all of London.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Everybody knows that, Charlotte. Take a look at the tabloids. Is Edward aware that you know him?” he whispers.

“He’s Brielle’s friend.” I roll my eyes. “I don’t even know him.”

He stares at me for a moment, trying to work out if I’m telling the truth.

“I’m not stupid, you know?” I add.

“I know you’re not.” He rubs my arm. “Just… whatever you do, don’t mess with him.”

“Why not?”

“Because you will be the next bit of town gossip.” He holds two fingers in the air. “Spencer Jones dates two women in the same day. Two.”

My heart drops but I smile on cue—that fake smile that has been ingrained in me through my years of schooling. The same fake smile that I wear when Edward is scolding me in public for someone I have talked to who he didn’t approve of.

“Alexander, I have no interest in Spencer Jones. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to the bathroom.”