The Boss's Surprise Son / Doctoring the Single Dad. Marie Ferrarella
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to the driver.
“Thank you.” She’d seen some lovely sights as they made their way through town to the Crosse properties—St. Paul’s Cathedral, the Millennium Bridge. Seen but not experienced.
“I know we’re here on business, but please tell me we’ll get some free time to actually visit some of these beautiful sights.”
She saw him looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “I suppose you deserve something for your interference today,” Rick conceded. “You were right about Crosse. He needed reassurance. You saw that and quite possibly saved the deal.”
“I hope so.” She shifted so she faced him. Watched as he lifted a hand to smother a yawn. The muscles in his throat worked and her mouth watered. “I liked Crosse.”
“He liked you, too.” That was the second time in two days he’d said a man liked her. Knowing she shouldn’t go there, she couldn’t prevent the question from popping out.
“Do you?” she asked.
“Yes. I was being honest with him. I really do think I can learn from him.”
“No,” she corrected, “do you like me?“
His profile froze before he slowly turned and shot her a harassed glare. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” What was she thinking asking such a personal question? Other than that somehow his answer mattered a great deal to her.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, genuine puzzlement in his tone. “Everyone likes you.”
“So you seem to think.” Stop this now, she pleaded with herself. But she didn’t care about everyone; she cared about him. “But what about you? I know you think I talk too much.”
“You do,” he said with casual ease. “But I’m getting used to it. I even learn things, like ‘comfortable chic.’”
She grinned. His announcement had both surprised and pleased her. “I noticed how you used that.” And how he’d skipped over her question.
“I meant what I said. You changed the direction of the meeting today. Thank you.”
“I’m sure you would have noticed before it was too late.”
“Don’t start lying to me now, Savannah. I like to think I would have caught on eventually, but you don’t think so or you wouldn’t have interrupted.”
“Well, you were overexcited—”
He laughed. “Now that’s something I’ve never been accused of before.”
“It’s not a bad thing. And you’re entitled. Oh look, it’s the guards with the bearskin hats. And, oh, the palace.”
The view was out Rick’s window and she had to lean forward and toward him to catch sight of the grand palace. Even in her excitement she noticed how good he smelled, clean with a hint of spice. It made her want to snuggle close, and she’d already practically climbed in his lap in order to see better.
“Savannah.” He ground out the throaty protest.
And, of course, he was right. The one time under extreme conditions on the plane could be excused; twice and it was getting to be a bad habit.
“Sorry.” She eased back into her own space and lost all sight of the palace. “Driver, please stop,” she called.
“What are you doing?” Rick demanded.
“I’m getting out. I can’t come to London and not see the palace. I’ll find my own way back.”
“It’s freezing out there. Literally.”
“I’ll be fine. I may even find a shop to buy some gloves.”
She reached for her purse and when she looked up she saw an odd flash of emotion cross Rick’s face. The vulnerability in his hooded gaze stunned her, brought a lump to her throat. For a moment, the strong, confident man looked lonely.
“You should come with me,” she heard herself say. “We can find a pub and have some fish and chips.”
He hesitated, then surprised her by nodding. “Sure. I could eat.”
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