“Who is that woman?” I ask, completely distracted.
He frowns. “Which one?”
“Pink dress. Charlotte.”
His eyes widen, and he chuckles. “Stay away from that one, old boy. She’s out of your league.”
“And why would you say that?”
“Every man in the county is after her and she won’t give any of them the time of day.”
I feel my skin prickle at the challenge. “Really?”
“Yes. And then you have to get past her father and brothers even if she is interested at all.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“That’s her father on the right. If I stand correct, he is the third wealthiest man in the country. He owns casinos around the world and has connections everywhere. On the left of her is her older brother Edward. Complete and utter bastard.”
I narrow my eyes as I watch him. “What does Edward do for a coin?”
“Guard Charlotte, from what I hear. He doesn’t let her out of his sight. It’s a
full-time fucking job.”
I raise my glass to him in a silent toast. He
shakes his head. “Not her, Spencer. She really is off limits. Way too pure for
Excitement rolls over me. “The thrill of the chase is alive and well, my friend.”
He chuckles. “Or the thrill of a death wish. You fuck around with her and her
father will murder you without a second thought.”
I smile as I turn to watch Charlotte talk to the two men. “Challenge accepted, old boy.”
He laughs into his beer and shakes his head. “Next time I see you, it may be your funeral.”
My eyes dance with delight. “Give me a good wrap in the eulogy, hey? I’m sure it will be worth it.”
He chuckles, and with a shake of his head, he disappears through the crowd.
I stand on my own simply watching her. She is the most beautiful thing I have seen in a very long time. At once, she glances up and her eyes fall on me, holding my gaze. I smile and raise my beer to her in a silent toast. She immediately looks away and fidgets with her hands in front of her.
I smile to myself as I watch her.
Run along, boys. I want her alone.
Mr Spencer smiles sexily and raises his glass in my direction. I bite my bottom lip
nervously. Is he doing that to me? He’s standing alone in the crowd, a beer in
one hand, his other hand tucked away in his expensive suit pocket. I snap my
eyes away as my stomach flips with excitement.
He’s probably not even aiming it at me.
“Charlotte, I have someone I want you to meet,” my father says.
“Dad, not now. I don’t want to meet any of your boring friends.” I sigh.
He rolls his eyes, and I glance back over at Mr Spencer still staring at me. I glance
back up to my father. “What is it?” I ask with a huff.
“His name is Evan. I know his family, and he happens to be a lawyer.”
“Father, please,” I moan. “Stop. I’m not dating one of your boring friend’s
My brother Edward looks at my father and scowls. “Yes, please stop. The thought makes me murderous.”
I roll my eyes at my overbearing brother. “You, too.”
My father and Edward fall into conversation, leaving me to glance back over at Mr
Spencer. As soon as our eyes connect, he crooks his finger and gestures for me
to go to him.
I frown, look around, and point to my chest.
He nods with a sexy smile. I look around, instantly filled with some kind of guilt, and
I subtly shake my head.
Oh my God.
My stomach flips over.
He crooks his finger again, and I find myself biting my bottom lip and dropping my head to hide my smile.
“Would you like a drink, Charlotte?” my brother asks.
“Please.” I smile as I concentrate on not looking Mr Spencer’s way again.
My father falls into conversation with a man who walks past, and I glance around
nervously. I’m not sure whether to go and talk to Mr Spencer or not. No, that’s
a bad idea. Perhaps I’ll go and get some fresh air instead.
“I’m heading to the bathroom,” I whisper to my father.
“All right, love.” He smiles as I put my hand on his shoulder. I walk through the ballroom and out onto the back terrace and down the steps. Fairy lights are strewn
across the garden giving it a romantic feel. Waiters are circling the garden
with trays of fancy cocktails and champagne. This wedding has been amazing, and
the attention to detail has been impeccable. Every detail is perfect. I walk
along the pathway down to the outdoor bathrooms. Once there, I head inside and
close the door behind me.
Peace at last.
I can hear the music in the distance as I stare at my reflection in the mirror and reapply my fuchsia lipstick. My thick shoulder-length blonde hair is down and pulled
back on one side behind my ear. My pink strapless dress fits perfectly and
clings to my curves. I roll my lips as I stare at my reflection. Eventually, I
exhale heavily and snap my lipstick back into my silver clutch.
Most eligible bachelor in London, an appalling rake.
Great. The first man I’ve been attracted to in forever and he’s a womaniser. Typical.
For once, I would like to meet an honourable man who is actually appealing.
Why does it have to be one or the other? Who made this god forsaken rule that any man who is a tad interesting must be a player? And why are all the good men as boring as hell? God must definitely be a man.
With one last look at myself, I head back out into the garden and make my way up the path towards the party.
“Charlotte,” a deep voice calls from behind me.
I turn and falter, taken aback. It’s him.
It’s Mr Spencer.
He smiles sexily and his eyes hold mine. “Hello.”
My heart rate spikes. “H-hi.” I smile nervously.
He steps towards me and takes my hand in his, and I inhale sharply. He holds my hand up in the air and nods, as if bowing. “Forgive me for following you, but I had to
come and meet the most beautiful woman in the room tonight.” He kisses the back
of my hand tenderly, and I raise my brows. “My name is Spencer.” He smiles
against my skin.
Oh, he’s really quite…
I pull my hand away sharply. “I know who you are, Mr Spencer.”
He smirks harder, and his mischievous eyes hold mine. “You do?” he asks
smoothly with a raise of his brow.
I clasp my hands nervously in front of me. “Your reputation precedes you.”
His smirk breaks out into a broad smile. “Ah, you can’t believe everything you hear, now, can you?”
His voice is deep and permeating. It somehow sinks into my bones when he speaks.
“Can I help you with something?” I ask. What the hell does he want?
“I hope so.” He smiles and picks up my hand again. “Would you do me the honour of
dancing with me?”
I swallow nervously, and he smiles and drops his lips to the back of my hand to kiss me softly. His sexy eyes stay fixed on mine.
Okay, hell… he’s good. Really good.
“I…” I stop talking because I really can’t concentrate when he’s touching me.
He’s so forward.
“Charlotte?” he repeats, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I shake my head in a fluster. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He turns my hand over to gently kiss the inside of my wrist. I feel his touch deep inside my stomach.
He gently licks my wrist and my knees nearly buckle out from underneath me.
Oh, for the love of God!
“My father and brother…” I frown as my voice trails off. How in the hell am I supposed to string two words together when he’s doing that to me?
He steps forward and takes me into his arms. “We’ll dance here then.”
He pulls me close to him, takes one of my hands in his, and he smiles down at me as he begins to sway to the music. “You’re a wonderful dancer, Lady Charlotte.” He
I smirk at his sheer audacity. “Does this routine work on every woman you meet?”
He smiles his first genuine smile and I feel the effects of it hit me deep in my stomach.
“Please don’t talk about other women. I’m in the courting zone, concentrating
on you and only you.” He spins me around, and we both chuckle at his
ridiculousness. He lets me go and holds one hand up, and then he spins me in his arms and pulls me back to his body at force until we come face to face.
I stare up at him, my heart skipping a beat. “I have to go,” I whisper.
“Why?” his intoxicating breath washes over my face.
“My father will be looking for me.”
“How old are you, Lady Charlotte?”
“Too young for you, Mr Spencer.”
He smiles softly. “I have no doubt.” He bends down and softly kisses my lips.
My chest constricts.
He kisses me again, soft and tenderly, hovering his lips over mine. Unable to help it, I
smile, and that’s when he kisses me again but this time more urgently, his arms
curling around my waist and bringing me to his body.
I’ve never been kissed like this.
His tongue sweeps through my open mouth and our tongues dance together.
For three whole minutes, I drink him in as we kiss like teenagers.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Charlotte,” he gasps as he kisses me again.
I lose control and my hands go to his hair, and then I feel something hard up against
I instantly pull out of the kiss and step back, panting for breath.
He reaches for me again, but I step back farther. “Don’t touch me!” I whisper sharply,
holding my hand up in defence.
I shake my head. “I’m not the kind of girl you are used to, Mr Spencer.”
He scowls hard. “And what kind of girl is that?”
“I’m not one of those high society sluts. Y-you should go back inside and find someone else to… entertain you,” I stammer.
“I don’t want anyone else!” he snaps. “If I overstepped the line, I apologise. I never…
He’s tripping over his words, trying to right the situation.
I step back again, creating more distance. “You have stepped over the line… by a lot.” I glance up and I can see my father is out on the terrace looking for me. “I have
to go.” I brush past Mr Spencer, walk up the path and up the stairs. My father
smiles the second he sees me.
“Are you ready to leave, Charlotte?”
“Please,” I say quietly. My eyes fall back down to the garden where Mr Spencer stands.
My father puts his arm around me and we walk around to the front of the house to get into the back of his Bentley. His driver shuts the door and I peer out just in time
to see Mr Spencer appearing from the shadows next to the house, watching me
leave. He smiles softly and blows me a kiss, and I drop my head at once, gripping my clutch on my lap.
“That was a great night, wasn’t it?” My father smiles as the car slowly pulls out.
“It was.” I force a smile. My fingertips rise to brush my lips which still tingle from Mr
Spencer’s touch. I smile to myself softly.
No wonder he’s the most eligible bachelor in London.
And he’s trouble.