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“He’s not my date.”

“You’re dressed like he’s your date.”

“I’m dressed for work, you little douchebag.” I tapped his upper arm. “And wipe that scowl off your face. I don’t want this tantrum scaring off customers.”

That only caused him to glare at me more. Something I wholeheartedly ignored as a customer came to the bar. The dark look on Fergus’ face was quickly replaced by a wide, beaming smile that hid any trace of annoyance he was feeling.

If he weren’t so good at his job…

I ran my hand through my hair as I approached Damien sitting in the mini booth. “Let’s go. As you can see, I’m already working.”

His full, pink lips curled to the side. The stubble that coated his strong jaw was thicker and more unruly than usual like he hadn’t had a chance to shave this morning. “Efficient. Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t keep you long.” He stood up with one smooth movement and raised his hand to Fergus.

Turning my head, I saw Fergus’ barely-raised hand returning the acknowledgment.

Hmm.

Damien touched his hand to my lower back. “Come on. My car is waiting outside.”

“Is there anyone you don’t know?” I asked, stepping away from him. And do you drive anywhere yourself?

“I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing you until a couple of weeks ago.”

“That would be smooth if I didn’t think you were avoiding the question.”

He smirked and opened the door, spearing me with his dark eyes. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

“Ahh, but if I were any more stupid, you’d own my bar.” I flashed him a grin right as I stepped onto the sidewalk.

He laughed. “That’s exactly why you’re too smart.” He held the car door open for me the way he had the bar door. “How is Fergus?”

I slid inside the jet-black, shiny Bentley and eyed him speculatively. How did they know each other? My curiosity was spiking, nudging at me to ask that very question. So, of course, I did. “How do you know him?”

“The same way I know everyone else. Through business.” He joined me in the backseat.

“Gee, that wasn’t vague at all.”

“Not everything needs a clear-cut answer, Dahlia.”

“Only because you don’t like to give them.”

He sighed and leaned back in his seat. “Remind me why I asked you to lunch?”

Something tickled me in the pit of my stomach as I met his gaze. “Because I’m more fascinating than I am annoying.”

“You think you’re annoying?”

“No. I know I’m annoying—especially to you. I’m the puzzle you can’t figure out, and it’s driving you crazy.”

The steadiness with which he held my gaze was all too intimate. Every blink seared the memory of his hypnotic stare deeper into my mind. Even the barest twitch of his lips that curled in amusement was all too familiar.

Too amusing.

Too endearing.

Too…him.

“You know what? You’re right.” He stretched his arms out in front of him and then shrugged. “I’m not even going to pretend that I don’t want to figure you out, sweetheart, because I do. Believe me when I say, nobody is more annoyed about that than me. I tend to avoid people as a rule.”

“The more time I spend with you, the more I realize we have in common. Not enough to be happy about this time with you, but enough that you’re tolerable now.”

“Good to know.” His eyes sparkled. “I took the liberty of picking somewhere for lunch. Do you mind?”

“Actually, yes, but I suppose it’s too late now.”

A grin stretched across his face. “You can choose next time.”

“You assume there will be a next time. Then again, given that you’ve picked both dinner and lunch, assumption seems to be a part of your character.”

“Correct.” The car came to a stop, and Damien opened the door. “Shall we?”

Ten

Dahlia

We walked into a small sandwich bar tucked a few blocks away from the Strip. I hadn’t been to Barny’s since I was in college. It was far enough from the campus that it felt like a break but close enough that it didn’t feel like you were crossing the entire desert for a sandwich.

Not to mention, they made the best sandwiches and subs in the entire city.

“I can afford more than a sandwich, you know.” I eyed Damien as I pulled the door open and waited.

He stared at me flatly.

“What? I can’t hold a door for you, too? Do I look like a damsel in distress at the top of her tower?”

He gripped the edge of the door, his knuckles whitening in the process. “I already agreed to let you buy lunch. Don’t take it too far.”

“How gracious of you.” I let go of the handle with a flourish and stalked inside the busy sandwich shop. “God forbid your masculinity be threatened by a woman, of all things,” I threw over my shoulder with a quick glare.

I’d barely turned my head when his hands were on my shoulders. He tugged me toward him, pulling my back flush against his toned body. My ass nestled against him, and his solid chest pressed against my shoulder blades, sending a shiver rocketing down my spine.


Tags: Emma Hart Vegas Nights Billionaire Romance