Page 25 of Daring to Love

“Hi, Daddy,” she mutters. “I forgot I meant to ring you.” Her look turns speculative until her lips tip up in the corners. “Thank you, I’ve had a fab birthday.”

She glances at me, and the lingering desire in her eyes causes the ache surrounding my heart to flare up anew.

“Daddy, I’m almost home. Can I ring you back? Yeah, I’m with someone.” She turns and walks slowly, and all I can do is tag along. I said I’d walk her home, and I’m not going to break my promise. “No, I’m not mad about the interview anymore. I’d have liked for you to talk with me first, though, Mr. Smith.”

My jaw goes slack as I realise it turns out it’s her father who tipped me off as to her whereabouts. I quirk my lips, grinning as she rolls her eyes at me.

“I’ve met him, yes. He’s…not horrible, no. Or old.”

I peer down, holding my breath. I don’t know if I should be worried of them clearly talking about me or not, but I almost stumble at the amusing light in her eyes. I shake my head at her quiet teasing.

How the fuck am I going to be able to tell her goodnight?

More importantly, how am I going to stop myself from kissing her again?

“Okay, then I’ll speak with you tomorrow. Have fun at the theatre.” She lowers her voice. “Give my love to Maman. Love you, too.”

The low sigh that falls from her lips as she ends the call intrigues me, but I don’t want to push.

“Sorry about that,” she smiles up at me. “I couldn’t resist teasing him, you see.”

“Right.”

“My parents sprung the interview on me this morning,” she goes on even though I haven’t asked her to elaborate, “and to say that I was furious would be an understatement.”

I grin down at her.

“So, I’m not horrible, eh?”

She shakes her head.

“Mais non. You’re okay, I suppose.”

I clap a hand over my head, pretending to be affronted.

“Well, thank you very much,” I tease.

That sets off her laughter, sending fire through my aching balls, but I ignore the uncomfortable tightness in my jeans.

We walk in a companionable silence until we reach the white townhouse not far from the dance studio. She stops in front of the black wrought-iron gate, and I look up at the building. I didn’t really pay much attention to it earlier this morning, too busy wondering why she ran away from me, but now, I take my time. The front door is a deep green, and two flowerpots with some sort of haphazard flower arrangements stand on either side, giving the house an inviting feel to it.

I point at them.

“Did you make those?”

“I did, yes.” She seems to hesitate but then shrugs. “Flowers make me happy.”

I tuck the tidbit about her away for now, but I’d be a fool if I didn’t admit this new information about her didn’t fascinate me.

“I like them.”

It hasn’t gone unnoticed that we’re in the more expensive part of Edinburgh, but I let it go for now.

“Thank you for dinner.”

I nod and bend to give her a soft kiss on the cheek, unable to deny myself. The soft sigh that falls from her lips makes me grit my teeth, and I tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

“I’ll text you when the contract is ready and arrange to meet up.”