Tangled Games (Dating Games #5) - T.K. Leigh Page 0,67

bikes here. When I sense a presence looming beside me, I look to my right, expecting to see one of the waitstaff approaching with our tea.

Instead, my gaze falls on a suit-clad body, debonair smile, and enigmatic blue eyes.

“Anderson? What are you—”

“Shh,” he hushes me before I can finish. “How about some role play?” He winks.

Role play? Here? Sure, we once did just that at least once a week in New York to keep things fun, meeting at various spots in the city and pretending to fall in love as different people all over again. But how is that going to help our situation? I’m not interested in falling in love with a stranger.

I inhale a sharp breath, the realization washing over me.

“Or perhaps real play might be more appropriate right now,” he says.

“Real play?” I repeat.

He nods slowly, keeping his hopeful eyes locked on mine. “Yes. Real play.”

I blow out a small laugh. “I think that’s exactly what we need.”

“As do I.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Anderson

“My name’s Gabriel.” I extend my hand, pleading with Nora to take it. Like she holds my entire future in her hands.

In a way, she does.

Finally, she places her hand in mine. “Nora.”

“Nora,” I croon in a husky voice that sends a visible shiver through her. She can try to deny it all she wants, but her body still responds to me the same way it did the first time our eyes locked in that Chicago diner. “That’s a beautiful name.”

Gaze trained on her, I gradually lift her hand to my lips. Her complexion reddens, chest heaving with her increasing breaths. When I brush my mouth against her knuckles, I swear a tiny moan escapes her throat.

God, that sound does things to me.

I release my grip on her before I can’t resist the temptation to yank her from the chair and pin her against the wall as I give her a taste of precisely what she’ll miss if she leaves. But I don’t, remembering the part I’m here to play.

“Would you like some company?” I gesture to the empty chair.

“I’d love some.”

“Wonderful.” Unbuttoning my suit jacket, I lower myself into Esme’s chair. “I get the feeling you’re not from around here.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Just a hunch, although that adorable American accent of yours is a dead giveaway.”

She’s about to respond when the owner of the café approaches. Noticing me beside Nora, he straightens, my presence obviously taking him by surprise. But he recovers quickly and bows.

“Your Highness.”

“Good to see you, Lewis.”

“Here are the tea, scones, and sandwiches Her Highness ordered, sir.”

“Lovely. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He gives Nora a smile and, after another quick bow toward me, retreats.

I grab the pot and pour liquid into the two small teacups before adding a bit of sweetener to both. I slide her cup and saucer toward her, ensuring the handle points in the correct direction.

“A toast.” I lift my teacup.

“With tea?”

“Why not?”

“What shall we drink to?” She raises her cup.

“What do you say to second chances and fresh starts?”

A shy grin tugs on her lips, her eyes gleaming. “I think it’s perfect. To second chances and fresh starts.”

We clink teacups and take a sip. After returning my cup to its saucer, I grab her plate, serving her a few finger sandwiches from the three-tiered presentation.

“I should probably tell you,” I begin once I have a plate of my own, “I’m kind of a big deal around here.”

“Is that so?” She places the cloth napkin over her lap.

“I can see why you wouldn’t know, considering you’re not from here.”

“And why are you a big deal?”

“Truthfully, it’s rare that I lead with this information. Not because I’m trying to hide who I am,” I add quickly. “I simply don’t want it to cloud someone’s opinion of me. Most of my relationships have been…superficial. People only tend to spend time with me because of who I am. To this day, I can count on one hand the number of authentic people in my life.” I narrow my gaze on her. “The number of people who know the real me.”

She averts her eyes, a hint of remorse tugging on her expression.

“But something tells me you don’t have a superficial bone in your body,” I continue, pulling her attention back to me. “That despite who I am, you’ll decide whether I’m worth your time based on my merits. Nothing else.”

“I’d like to think I’m not one-dimensional enough to only want to be with someone because of any alleged clout they may have. Trust me.