a cheesecake. Then I thought about banoffee chocolate things you could eat for breakfast, like banoffee chocolate chip Chelsea buns. I also considered a banoffee doughnut with a chocolate glaze. I thought further upon it, and after coming up with a decadent banoffee chocolate croissant, I finally decided that a lovely idea would be a simple, yet delicious, batch of banoffee chocolate chip cookies.”
Where has my brain gone? Where? Xander didn’t need to know how I came to the decision to make cookies!
“Intriguing,” Xander says, the smile still twitching at his lips.
“You followed that?” I blurt out without thinking.
Why am I still talking? Why? Why?
His eyes dance with amusement, and I feel my pulse flutter as a result. “I have to listen to a lot of speeches about boring things. I’ve trained myself to stay focused in those scenarios. But when you are talking about a topic that interests me—let’s say, the evolution of a banoffee pie into a chocolate chip cookie—it’s easy to follow.”
I can’t help but chuckle at that. “I’m glad you found that interesting.”
“I found it fascinating. So much so that you’ll have to tell me more. Please, come in.”
What? Come in?
But I see I don’t have much of a choice, now that he has stepped aside for me to enter his home.
Everything inside of me begins to flutter. I step past him, moving awfully close, and I detect his aftershave. It’s different. His skin smells of woods and smoke and a hint of sweet—like he had been sitting by a campfire, and the scent of it had kissed his skin.
It’s the most masculine, sexy scent I have ever detected on a man.
I manage to put one foot in front of the other, moving past him, until I’m in the small foyer. My eyes widen as, to my right, I have a complete view of one of his living spaces.
It’s not the bachelor pad I envisioned in my head.
Instead, I find myself looking into a room that reminds me of an old-school gentleman’s study. The walls are painted a deep shade of green. There’s a rich leather sofa that faces two chairs covered in deep-navy velvet. An ottoman serves as the table between them. A patterned antique rug covers the floor, tying the furniture together. Behind the sofa, there’s a desk with an antique brass lamp and books neatly stacked on the side. There are rich, dark-wood bookcases, filled with displays of books but also framed pictures and trophies, ones I assume he won playing polo. I also spot a crystal decanter filled with an amber liquid and lowball glasses.
Pure male sexiness exudes from this room. I can see Xander sinking into that rich leather sofa, drink in hand, sipping it slowly and savouring what is no doubt an awfully expensive spirit.
I shift my attention to him. Just like him rushing out to save my biscuits, he has once again completely surprised me with his cottage’s interior.
“I like your living room,” I say, turning my head and glancing at it again. “It’s what I picture an old gentleman’s club to be like.”
“Astute observation.”
I face him. He’s studying my face, but I can’t tell what he’s trying to see.
My heart accelerates at that idea. Why is he even trying to see me in the first place?
“So, I’m correct?” I ask, my heart startled by the observation I’ve just made about him.
He nods. “Yes. It didn’t feel right to go modern in here. I hired an interior designer—Jillian, she’s brilliant—and she did this whole interview with me to get where I am at this point in my life, you know? What I’m doing now that I’m out of the army, my work with the shared organisation with Liz and Christian, how I’m leaving some parts of my life behind and moving forward, the kind of man I want to be.”
“What kind of man do you want to be?” I ask, not caring that I’m speaking to Prince Alexander of Wales. Because right now, he’s not a prince. He’s Xander, a man who is studying me and trying to see through me. And it’s time we were on a mutual footing in this regard.
He reaches up and scratches the nape of his neck, his lips once again flirting with a smile. “That’s a direct question.”
“I know it is. I’m not afraid to ask those if I’m interested.”
“I’ll answer on one condition.”
“What is that?”
“You give me the evolution of the banoffee chocolate chip cookie recipe after I’ve told you.”