Page 12 of Reckless Sinner
I waved my hand for the bill, gave our waitress my credit card, then signed the check. “Do you live nearby? Would you like me to walk you home?”
Delaney’s eyebrows rose and her mouth made that little ‘o’ of surprise again. She had to stop doing that or I was going to do something drastic like kiss her. “I—we live—not too close, I figured I would take a taxi.”
I nodded, slid out of my seat, then extended my hand to help Delaney out of hers. “Let’s get your chariot then, milady.”
Delaney definitely knew I was cutting things off early. But this wasn’t just a date gone wrong. That wasn’t it at all. It was one thing for me to be attracted to a woman. It was another thing for me to try dating a woman who also happened to be the daughter of my boss.
But a whole new animal, and a much more unpredictable one, was getting into a relationship with a woman who could be a weakness.My weakness.
If Delaney was disappointed, she did a good job of hiding it. She seemed, overall, pretty damn good at hiding her emotions as long as she wasn’t completely surprised by something. Compliments seemed to be the number one way to induce that surprise and that… hmm. That was something to think about.
No, it’s not something to think about, you moron.
I chastised myself for still being intrigued by her. There were few things more deadly in my world, in my position, than a woman who seemed to be genuine. I couldn’t risk my heart. Not when I had one foot in both worlds, each one deadly.
“Thank you for the dinner,” Delaney said as I hailed a taxi for her. “It was lovely. Feel free to call me. I’m usually available.”
“I had a nice time too,” I told her, because it was true. “Have a good night.”
It wasn’t even that late. I’d had a stroll through the park planned for afterwards to walk off the dinner a little, then thought if it went well I’d take her back to my place. Now that was all shot.
I waved her off and then mentally facepalmed. God, could I make it seem any more like I didn’t want anything to do with her?
I did, though. And that was the problem.
CHAPTER6
Delaney
What had I done wrong?
I paced up and down my room back at the townhouse. What had I said? Was it something Ihadn’tsaid? Was I just not interesting enough? Pretty enough?
Dad would kill me if I couldn’t do as I was told. Ordered. One simple thing, just date the guy and keep an eye on him and I couldn’t even get that right. I was such a disappointment.
A good cry in the shower would help.
I had to think of something. Some way to keep Dante on the hook. I couldn’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers. Not just because I wanted to sleep with him. That was secondary. I had to make my father proud and help with his campaign.
After a nice, good cry, some nice soaking under the hot spray, and dressed in my fluffy pink bathrobe, I lay on the bed and weighed my options.
I’d said that Dante should call if he wanted to do this again. But I knew he wouldn’t. I could tell. I wasn’t an idiot and I was good at reading people even if I didn’t have all of Dante’s particular nuances down just yet.
That meant I had to lure him back in again. But how?
I went back over the conversation in my mind as I stared up at the ceiling. I still couldn’t figure out what I’d done wrong. I had just been expressing sympathy over his mother, and joy that he found a way to connect with her after her death. I wished I had that for my mother. She’d died when I was so young, I couldn’t really know her as a person, just as a parent—a source of love who was now gone.
Hmm. Austen. I wasn’t much of a history buff, but I had been a voracious reader growing up and I did really love Jane Austen’s works.
I sat up and reached for my phone, typing out a text. I hit send before I could second-guess myself. My record for time spent agonizing over the wording of a text was an hour and a half.
I know everyone’s all over P&P and for good reason but I think Persuasion is really underrated.
To keep from spiraling into anxiety while I stared at the phone waiting for an answer, I busied myself drying my hair and painting my nails a soft, cotton-candy pink color. It was over an hour later that I received a reply.
Had he only just now seen the text? Or had he spent all that time wondering if he should even bother responding to me? My stomach twisted with nerves as I grabbed the phone and swiped open the text.
Funny, I would’ve thought you’d like Northanger Abbey.
