Page 57 of Five Stolen Rings
“No,” I say, bristling as I twist the hem of my shirt between my fingers. “I just think that if you called mebeautiful, you shouldn’t downgrade me toprettynow.”
He pushes off the wall, and the challenge in his expression as he steps closer sends a pleasant shiver down my spine.
“What exactly are you trying to say, Princess?” he says softly.
Good question. I swallow. “Nothing,” I say.
His voice is softer still when he goes on, “Are you trying toflirtwith me?”
My jaw drops. “I—no! No way. You just saidbeautiful, and then you saidpretty, and they’re different. That’s all. I—never mind.” I clear my throat. “It’s stupid. I don’t actually care.” I give in and press my hands to my burning cheeks as Jack steps closer still.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice even, his gaze locked on mine. “Occasionally delightful.” Then he pauses, his eyes dropping to my lips. “But hardly irresistible.”
“Not handsome enough to tempt you?” The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them.
And even though a smirk flits over his face, his gaze doesn’t stray—it’s stillfixed on my lips.
“Definitely not,” he murmurs. Then he takes a deep breath, and the spell is broken; his gaze jerks away from me all together, and he turns on his heel and heads toward the door. “And a bad judge of Christmas beverages,” he says without looking back. “Come get something to eat, and then explain yourself.”
“Jack,” I call right as he passes out of the room.
He stops in place but doesn’t say anything.
“You’re—very handsome too,” I say lamely. “Or attractive. Whatever.”
There’s a beat of silence before he says, “You’ve already told me that.”
“I know,” I say, feeling dumber by the second. “Just—thought it bore repeating.”
Slowly, he turns around. “And?” he says, raising one eyebrow at me.
I blink at him. “And…what?” I say. “Are you expecting more?”
His shoulders jerk into a little shrug. “Earlier you gave mequitethe compliment. You said I was an amazing kisser.”
My jaw drops. “Inever?—”
“Only you actually said, and I quote,” he cuts me off, “that I was an‘ah-may-ay-ay-zing’kisser?—”
He dodges the pillow I fling at him and then darts away, down the hall, laughing the whole time.
STELLA
“So about six months ago, a guy started coming by our office,” I say.
Jack gives me a slow nod, his eyes narrowed. He’s standing in his little kitchen, leaning back against the counter, his arms folded over his chest. I, meanwhile, am seated at the table, a few sandwich crusts in front of me.
“He said he was from the New York office, and he was visiting to coordinate some projects,” I go on. This story is probably the most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to me, but Jack picked me up while I was drunk and embarrassed and crying about it. He heard enough that there’s no point in keeping it to myself anymore.
“Okay,” he says now, nodding again. “Keep going.”
“Right. So.” I take a deep breath and fix my gaze somewhere past his shoulder. “He was a little older than me but not too much, and he was really attractive, and he flirted with me a lot.”
Jack lets out a rough exhale, unfolding his arms. “All right, fine. Go on.”
“He was giving off major signals,” I say, and it’s clear by the look on Jack’s face that he can see where this is going. “He tucked my hair behind my ear one time. He told me we should grab a drink and I could tell him about my ideas for the project I was working on. He said stuff like ‘Hey, Beautiful’ and ‘Hey, Gorgeous.’”
Jack’s expression sours, and he grunts, waving at me to continue.
