The Prince's Resistant Lover Page 0,3
down at her hand, feeling suddenly vulnerable and scared. The pads of his fingers weren’t smooth like they should be. They were rough, his grip gentle, but she could sense the strength in his touch. Wasn’t he soft? Wasn’t he weak? Something about his touch, the way his fingers were holding her fingers so lightly, told her that there was a hidden strength about him. And that terrified her even more.
She tried to pull her hand free, but his fingers tightened on hers, refusing to release her. “I don’t think dinner would be a good idea.” The trembling was a bit more obvious now and she wanted to jerk her hand free and dive into the massive freezer in the back of the restaurant to cool off her red cheeks.
He shifted ever so slightly, cornering her in so the rest of the diners could not witness their conversation. They were effectively hidden from view by his broad shoulders. “I think it would be a wonderful idea. I’ll pick you up at seven,” he told her. It wasn’t a question. It was a dare!
Her eyes flashed up to his, not sure she could believe what he’d just said. “I won’t be here,” she told him emphatically.
“I know.” He moved closer and she had to crane her neck to look at him, shocked at how tall he was. And had those shoulders grown about a foot wider? How was that possible? His rough fingers touched her cheek, trailing down her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “I’ll see you tonight.”
A moment later, he was gone. She looked around, feeling like she’d just been scorched but had no clue why. He’d just touched her. Many men had done the same thing, one ending up with broken fingers because of it. But she’d never felt this….vulnerable…around a man before. And she definitely didn’t like it. She’d had enough of being vulnerable. For the past five years, she’d done everything in her power to eliminate that possibility from her life, and there was no way she would allow a man to bring it back. Dinner? No way!
She stomped back to the kitchen, her mind reeling from his impact. What an arrogant, conceited, monumentally irritating jerk! She couldn’t believe the gall of the man! Yes, she might have felt guilty over her trick with the burger, but for him to suggest that she should go out to dinner with him? No way!
She walked over to her tables, still ignoring the one where the jerk had eaten, not wanting to deal with that area right now. The lunch rush was slowing down, the restaurant becoming quieter and still, she avoided that table.
“Wyndi! Get things cleaned up on table six!” her manager called out.
She looked over at the table, her anger and resentment growing exponentially as her feet dragged. And that’s when she saw it. The tip! She’d somewhat suspected that the man wouldn’t pay for his meal. She might not have if she’d been given something as inedible as that burger, but not only had he paid for the meal, he’d left a stack of twenties there underneath the plate!
She counted out the bills, almost choking when she realized that the man had left her two hundred dollars! What a jerk!
She took the money over to the cash register and cashed out his ticket. It only took one of the bills to cover his meal, and that still left him fifteen dollars that she would have to figure out how to return. With irritation, she slapped a five dollar bill down on the counter. “Here,” she said to Linda, her fellow waitress. “The jerk at table six left this and I don’t want it.”
Linda stared at the money and laughed before she pocketed the cash. “Honey, you really have your priorities out of whack.” She moved off after that and Wyndi grabbed an envelope to store the remaining one hundred and ninety dollars. She’d give it back to him if she could find him. Otherwise, she’d give it to a charity. She didn’t want his money, feeling dirty just storing it in her pocket.
The afternoon was busy and she was relieved when her shift ended at four o’clock. The dinner crowd hadn’t started to filter in, but that was usually a smaller rush. While most restaurants had a healthy dinner crowd, because of the diner’s location, their main meals were breakfast and lunch. They depended on the workers from the docks and construction jobs