Page 98 of The Saint (Gentlemen Rogues 3)
Gemma rolled her eyes. "I'll have you know sir, that I kept her out of trouble. Nothing happened on my watch, see? So you can release those reins of control just a bit."
"Not likely."
When Gemma was gone, I turned to him. "What's wrong? You wouldn't be here unless something was wrong."
His gaze searched mine and then he shook his head slowly. "Nothing. I just wanted to take you out."
I blinked. "Out?"
"Yes, out. I asked you once, but then you had plans. So now I'm hoping you don't have plans."
I nodded. "Out. That sounds good. Do you want to have lunch?"
He chuckled softly, and I could see it when he laughed. He looked my age. Carefree and happy. That's what he was missing. There was always that intensity about him."Lunch. That’s an excellent idea."
I laughed. "Do you want to take it back to your flat?"
"Stop calling itmyflat. It'sourpenthouse."
“I'm sorry, I called it a flat."
“I’m more concerned that you still think of it as mine instead of ours.”
He took my hand and slid my fingers through his. The crash of electricity and need hit me hard. But I cleared my throat and tried to smile at him like I wasn't completely deranged.
"Just go with it,” he said. “If I take you back to the flat, as you say, I'm going to jump you, and I want to talk first because talking is probably a really good idea."
I frowned, disappointed in his way of talking. "Okay, we can talk, I guess."
"Excellent. Then come with me. I know just the place."
I followed him out, aware that there was more than one guard posted outside. I wondered just how I was going to keep my hands off him all the way to lunch.
CHAPTER 30
SAINT
I knewI should tell her about her mother because would it affect everything. But still, I couldn't tell her. She looked happy to see me for once, and she needed something happy.
"Where are we going?"
"Oh, you'll see."
"That's not helpful."
"I know. You just have to be patient."
I remembered something she'd said about her mother. That her mum had loved the fair. It had taken me, well me and Maureen, looking for something that would suffice, but we finally found a fair in Sheffield, and the weather was holding.
When we arrived at the helipad, her eyes went wide. "Where the fuck are we going?"
"Relax, this is a good thing."
I tucked her in the seat and gave her a headset, and she looked at me warily. Still, I could see it in her eyes, the delight, the excitement about something new, something different.
We didn't say much during the helicopter ride. When the pilot landed, there was a car waiting for us, and she kept pestering me with questions about where we were going until we arrived at the little fair. All I cared about was that there wasa Ferris wheel. Because she’d said on her birthday, her mother had always taken her to ride the Ferris wheel and gotten her cotton candy and cake. I could do that at the very least. The cake might be from the best baker I could find in London, and I might have had Saff help me find a cotton candy maker. One that let you do your own flavors. And with Gemma’s help, I was also redecorating her room.
That’s not a gift. That’s a punishment. You want her in your room.
