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No, I think as I look him up and down. Right now he is every inch His Royal Highness. I’d bemoan the loss, except this look might be even better than the one he was sporting at the lake the other day.

Gone are the board shorts and shaggy hair and in their place is a bespoke-suit-wearing, slicked-back-hair-sporting prince. With his intense blue eyes and his cut-glass jaw shaved clean, he pretty much embodies the press’s moniker for him. Gorgeous Garrett is definitely in the house. Or, more precisely, on my porch.

Still, I’m not the type to swoon, no matter what my suddenly trembling knees have to say about it. So instead of inviting him in and jumping him in the middle of my very small (and currently cramped) living room, I lean against the doorframe and—with a cocked brow—ask, “What are you doing here?”

His eyebrows go up in response. “You said no to lunch, so I thought I’d give dinner a try.”

“You could have called.”

“I could have. But since it didn’t work out so well the first time, I figured a more hands-on approach was necessary.” His tone, while smooth and well-modulated, still somehow manages to call me on the fact that I didn’t give him a chance.

Which has my spine straightening as I don’t like being reprimanded by anyone, let alone some guy I met once—even if he is a prince. “And you decided stalking me to my Airbnb was the approach you wanted to take? Did it occur to you that perhaps I’m just not interested?”

“It did.” He grins. “But then I figured just the idea was absurd.”

“Wow. Ego much?”

“It’s not ego if it’s true.”

“Is this your normal spiel?” I ask, half amused and half offended. “Because I’ve got to tell you, it’s astonishing to think you can actually get a woman with it.”

“You’re absolutely right,” he agrees, still grinning. “It’s completely astonishing, isn’t it? To be honest, I was a little nervous about showing up here out of the blue, so I was trying to channel my brother Kian’s vibe—which attracts women by the hordes, by the way—but I just can’t seem to carry it off. It’s totally douchey, right?”

“Totally.” I want to be annoyed, but the truth is I’m totally charmed by his honesty. “What did you have to be nervous about, anyway?”

“You mean besides the fact that I called in Wildemar’s Director of National Intelligence to help me find a woman I met once? A woman who, incidentally, fled from me the second she had the chance and then hung up when I called and asked her for a date?”

“I didn’t exactly flee. More like…”

“Ran away quickly?”

I laugh. I

can’t help it. This guy is way smoother than he gives himself credit for. “Maybe. And I didn’t hang up on you. I told you I had a business call and a full day ahead of me.”

For the first time, he glances past me and into my living room. I can tell the moment he catches sight of the clothing explosion because his eyes widen comically. “I can see you were telling the truth. Shopping spree?”

“Business excursion.”

He arches a brow. “You dumped me for a job that required copious amounts of shopping?”

“I think dump is a little harsh, but yes.”

“Haven’t you heard? All work and no play makes Lola a dull girl…or so they say.”

“Isn’t it handy that I’m okay being dull, then? And from what I’ve heard, so is Gorgeous Garrett…”

“My reputation precedes me,” he says with a dramatic sigh. “But never fear—I’ve turned over a new leaf.”

“Hence the mid-morning sunbathing.”

“Exactly.”

“I gotta admit, that felt more like a whole branch than just a leaf.”

“Did it?” He shrugs, supremely unconcerned. That is as long as I don’t look too closely at his eyes. “Well, they say relaxation is good for the soul.”

“Do they now?”


Tags: Tracy Wolff His Royal Hotness Billionaire Romance