Page 17 of Improper Proposal
His head rears back again. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I know how it sounds.”
“Insane?”
“When you put it that way, yeah.” I stare out the window for a second. “I found out before…well, before you came into the bathroom, that I was dropped at the wrong castle. I’m on the wrong adventure. Grandpa saw me and assumed I was George’s big surprise. I was going to leave earlier, but Claire made pancakes, and then we had such fun in the garden, and well…I don’t know. They’re all so nice.”
His gaze moves over my face, and he nods like he understands where I’m coming from. “They’re great, aren’t they?”
“Yes, and now that I know the truth, I shouldn’t be pretending to be something I’m not. I just wasn’t sure what was going on before Piper texted, and now, well, I’m not sure how to fix it without your family hating me.” I lower my voice to a whisper and say, “Without you hating me.”
His face softens. “I don’t hate you Harper.”
A burst of relief expands my lungs. “No?”
“Now tell me more about this game you played. What’s supposed to happen on your adventure?”
“Well, during the month of our twenty-fifth birthday, whoever drew our name sends us a dossier for an adventure. Part of it is we’re not supposed to come home until we’ve had epic sex.”
The corners of his mouth twitches, and rather than being angry with me, he seems happy. Euphoria dances along my spine. “I guess you can check that off your list.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, releasing a measure of stress. “Yeah.”
He shifts in his seat. “You said you thought your friend set this up so you could fall in love with George.”
“I have no intention of falling in love. I was just hoping to break a dry spell.”
“Dry spell?” His gaze slides over me like a hot caress, his expression dubious. “You?”
I shrug. “I work sixteen-hour days.”
He nods like he gets that. “When is your birthday?”
I’m confused by the question. Why would he want to know that? “Why?”
He shrugs. “Just curious, and of course, I don’t want to miss out on giving you twenty-five spankings.”
A thrill races through me, and I make a face like the idea is horrible. It’s not. “I don’t think so.”
He grins like he can see through the lie. He’s well aware of how much I liked his dirty talk, the way he owned my body. “When is it?”
“The thirtieth of the month. I’ll be home by then.”
He nods. “I have a confession,” he says.
What? Really?
“Yeah?” I say, not sure what it could be. What secret has he been holding?
“This whole meeting online thing didn’t sit right with me. George is a dreamer, and I’m a realist. Believe me, I know how most women see us.”
“How’s that?” I ask.
“They want what’s in our bank account, mostly.”
Does he think I’m one of those women?
“I set out to prove that you were a gold digger.”
