Page 21 of Off the Grid

“Any woman?”

He rocks his head from side to side. “That’s what I said.”

I make a show of looking around the vast warehouse-type pub with its dark lighting and vibrant décor. “There are a lot of people to choose from. Should I be offended that out of all these women, you looked at me and figured I’d be the sucker who’d fall for a line like that and help?”

“Ouch. I feel the sting of that rebuke.”

“You should.”

“But.” He holds his finger up for me to wait, his smile widening. “What you didn’t let me get to is that when I made that statement, my mates one-upped it. They bet me that there was no way in hell I could get the prettiest woman in here to give me the time of day so . . . here I am.” He mock bows as his compliment settles in. “Trying to win that bet.”

“Ah, look at that, you just found your game. Nice try.” I know a line when I’m being fed one.

He laughs but glances over his shoulder to his mates and just like Gia and Isabella are, the four of his friends are all glancing our way.

Maybe it’s not a line.

Maybe it’s true.

And how does that make you feel, Camilla?

“Time of day? That definition seems to be painted with a very broad stroke,” I say. “What exactly does that mean?”

He grins. “That remains to be seen, now doesn’t it? The bigger the better I’m assuming.”

“Always.” I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the quick widening of his eyes and flaring of his nostrils.

“And her flirting gets better with each passing minute,” he murmurs as his eyes look me up and down. “I think that begs me to stand here all night and see how things turn out.”

Our gazes hold as sexual tension charges between us.

I can’t help my smile. He’s charming in all the right ways. He’s definitely good-looking. A woman would be stupid to walk away from this conversation.

But isn’t that what I would have done in the past? Let myself become uncomfortable and walk away?

Not this time.

Not when I’m trying to prove to Gia and Isabella that I am being more self-assured. That I’m putting myself out there. That I don’t want to be set up.

“This bet of yours,” I finally say. “What do you get if you win?”

“My pride kept intact. A few extras thrown in on their part.”

“Extras?”

“My bar tab picked up for a month. Bragging rights. Hopefully a phone number I can call at a later time for a date,” he says.

“Ah, so that’s the time of day portion. A phone number as the proof that I’ve given it to you.”

“It could be proof, yes. There might be a scale involved.”

“A scale? Like talking to me is the first rung. My phone number the second rung. Something else the next rung up?”

“Yeah. I think beyond that I’d get extra credit.”

“Extra credit, huh?” He nods. “And if you lose the bet?” I ask.

“There may have been some kind of dare involved.”