“Twenty-four.” Twenty-five in a month but she didn’t need to shorten the age gap between them. It might be a buffer that she could use.
His eyes swept over her and he grinned. “You look pretty good for a young lady.”
She smiled but backed toward her door. “It was nice to meet you.”
He stepped forward, his dark eyes suddenly intense, giving her an indicator of one of the factors that had helped him achieved success—he didn’t take no for an answer. “Have dinner with me ... please.”
The please was an afterthought to soften the demand of his request. She shouldn’t have liked his presumptuous tone and the intensity of his gaze but she’d always admired confident men, wanted a man who could stand by her side not mooch off her or her family’s success. Before her accident she’d known she would take the world by storm. Now she wasn’t so sure.
She surprised herself by wanting to spend more time with him. She wanted it badly. She swallowed and admitted, “I agreed to dine with Preston tonight.”
He paused for a beat, his eyes and mouth tightened, and then he nodded. “Smart move by my friend.”
“Nice to have met you,” she repeated then hurried across the deck, typed in the code for the door, and slid in, only letting herself look back once. He was focused on her and when he caught her eye, he gave her one more slow, sexy grin.
Rachel hesitantly returned the smile then let the door close behind her. She rested back against it and sighed dreamily. He was … incredible and she was definitely, definitely not in the market for a wealthy, fabulous man to date. Yet, the entire interaction had left her elated and wondering if she’d misjudged how men would respond to her scars or if Abe Bradford was impressive in more areas than success and good looks.