Mr. Romantic: A Mister Standalone (The Mister Series Book 2) Read online

  “Are you for real?” Ivy asks, all her defenses down. “No man is really this full of himself.”

  “One hundred percent genuine. You’re getting me tonight, Ivy. I hope you can handle it. Because I’d hate to disappoint Mr. Corporate at the next party.”

  Chapter Twelve - Ivy

  I… have no idea what to make of him. None. This whole day, this whole experience, has been one mind trip after another. “Why would he do that?”

  “I just told you,” Nolan says. His voice is low and filled with ego, and self-assurance, and charm—all wrapped up into one low rumble. His voice is filled with power.

  “He’s trying to set you up? On… a date?” It seems silly.

  But the look on Nolan’s face tells me I’m reading it wrong.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” he says back. “So about those ideas you have.”

  Hmmm. So that’s why he kept me here another night. He wants to pump me for information. “I don’t work for free, Mr. Delaney. So you’re wasting your time with this dinner.”

  “I don’t expect it for free, Ivy.” Those green eyes practically burn into mine. He doesn’t blink, or avert his gaze when I stare back.

  I break away first. “So you really do want to hire me? For like, a job?”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “More like a contractor. And not until tomorrow.”

  “Because you’re going to fuck me first.”

  “Now you’re catching on.”

  “Well.” I laugh, looking out into the empty restaurant beyond the arched doorway. “You’re mistaken. I’m not interested in you like that.”

  “Then why did you come? Hmmm? Good girls like you, Ivy Rockwell, don’t get into a private jet and travel two thousand miles for an interview with someone you’ve never even met.”

  “Don’t assume things about me, Nolan. I’m not as innocent as I look.”

  “Well.” He smiles, unleashing a dimple in his chin I hadn’t noticed before. “That’s good to know. I was afraid I’d be wasting my time with a virgin.”

  I huff out an uncomfortable laugh before I can stop it.

  “I mean, twenty-two is late, but it happens, right? And you are a preacher’s daughter.”

  My heart is beating fast and I have a sudden fear that panic will overtake me and I’ll say something stupid. So I shut it down. “I’m not discussing my personal details with you. So change the topic of conversation or I’ll get up and walk out. I don’t give a fuck who you are.”

  “Sure you do. That’s why you came, right? The infamous Mr. Romantic. I’ve heard that said enough times on the news reports to accept it. They don’t call Perfect infamous. Hell, they don’t even call Mysterious infamous, and he’s far more dangerous than I’ll ever be. So I know when you figured out who the interview was with, those words danced across your tongue. And I like the swearing, Ivy. I see you haven’t fallen for the bullshit your father probably sold you all growing up.”

  “Don’t talk about my family like you know them. You have no idea what kind of man my father is.”

  Nolan shrugs. “Don’t need to know. It’s the type. The strait-laced type. The kind of people who judge before they know the whole story. I bet he sat in front of the TV and asked his God to punish me for the atrocious sin I took part in. Did he do that, Ivy?”

  I huff out some air, disgusted. What does anyone see in this asshole? And he is not even a class-act asshole, like some of the boys Nora or the other sorority girls dated in college. He’s the scum variety.

  “He didn’t, Nolan.” I sneer his name. “He’s a kind man who was very good to me.”

  “Except for the religious brainwashing?”

  “Did you ever consider if I liked the religious brainwashing?”

  “Do you?”

  “I don’t mind it.” I shrug. “In fact, I like a lot of it. It’s made me the person I am today and I’m quite proud of that. So this stupid idea you have of making me uncomfortable, or trying to get in my good graces because you think I want nothing more than to rebel against the things I was taught—well, it’s not working, Mr. Romantic. You’re not exactly playing your A-game today.”

  “Noted,” he says, like he’s done with the topic.

  “So I would appreciate it if you’d be professional, if, in fact, you really do want to have a professional relationship with me. Got it?”

  “Your plan,” he says, not missing a beat. “Did it involve the free room idea you pitched in the meeting? Or was that just a decoy?”

  “It does. Somewhat. But I already told you, I’m not discussing the plan unless we have an agreement on how you’ll be paying for my expertise.”

  He leans back in his chair, hands in his lap. “I have no intention of taking advantage of you.”

  “No, you just want to fuck me.” It was meant to be like a slap. And he was meant to recoil. But he doesn’t react, and I find myself throbbing between my legs just from saying it out loud.

  He smirks. Like he knows. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, willing that excited feeling to go away.

  It doesn’t take very much to turn me on. And even though there is something about him that says, Run. Get away. Don’t participate in this conversation. Go back to your room, lock the door, and don’t close your eyes until you’re safely back in your own bed. I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about the reason I came here.

  I bite my lip and wonder how crazy I’d be if I actually let him do what he wants?

  “Ivy?”

  “What?”

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Going home.”

  “Should I call the pilot and let you go home?”

  “I thought you wanted to hear my ideas?”

  “After I fuck you, I said.”

  I don’t know what to say after that, and thankfully the servers come with the food. A plate of shell pasta filled with ricotta cheese, topped with melted mozzarella—surrounded by a perfect circle of red sauce that smells so delicious, my mouth starts watering—is placed in front of me.

  The chef appears, all smiles, hands behind her back as she looks at us. “I hope you like it. It’s one of my specialties. Nolan asked me to make my favorite dish for you, Miss Rockwell. And I don’t want to mess up your first date, so I’m nervous.”

  I look at Nolan, one eyebrow raised.

  He looks back, both eyebrows raised. “Taste it, Ivy. Elizabeth is waiting.”

  I cut off a small piece because the sauce is still steaming, and place it in my mouth.

  Jesus. Yes. I’m very hungry, but this dish is amazing. “Wow,” I say, after I swallow. “It’s perfect.”

  Elizabeth bows to me, then Nolan, her smile even bigger than before, and then backs off, and turns away, walking to the kitchen, doing a little fist pump in the air as she disappears through a door.

  “Well, you made her night.”

  “It’s really good,” I say, our heated conversation over. “I was talking to her earlier. She told me some interesting things.”

  “Things you took note of?” Nolan prods as he takes a taste of his own pasta.

  “Yes,” I say, unwilling to give him any details.

  “Things you won’t discuss with me until tomorrow?”

  “If I stay.”

  “You’re staying,” he says. “I already know you want to, so let’s get past that. Forget about tomorrow for now, we’ll do it your way. I will hire you, we will sign a contract for your consultation services, and then we’ll discuss it. But tonight—I’m sorry, Ivy. Tonight, we’re gonna do it my way.”

  I take a sip my wine, considering my options. Would it be so bad to have this very experienced man as my first?

  I mean, beyond my father hating him. My father can’t ever know anything about Nolan Delaney. No way. And beyond the fact that Nolan might catch on to my secret and put a stop to it, thereby humiliating me as I beg him to keep going, even though I insisted we were not going to have sex tonight.

  If I
could control those two variables, then would it be so bad?

  “I would die to be a mind reader right now.” Nolan is smiling at me, his expression nothing but cocky. Nothing but ego and self-assurance.

  Nothing but the power he knows he has.

  To render women powerless against his charming advances.

  He knows I want him. Hell, I’m sure every woman he meets wants him.

  I have never felt desirable. I have never felt wanted, not like this. I have never known the touch of a man and what that touch might mean. And I have never made a man want me so badly, I knew, no matter what I did or said, he’d never want to walk away. No transgression would be big enough for him to say no.

  I can imagine Mr. Romantic being one transgression after another. And I can imagine all the hearts he’s broken in the process. I can imagine all the ways in which he walks out. All the ways in which he is begged to stay.

  “I would die to have your confidence right now,” I say back.

  And then he frowns.

  Chapter Thirteen - Nolan

  I frown. Thinking about that statement for a moment.

  But then she laughs. “I mean, holy hell. You are so full of yourself, Mr. Delaney, it’s like ego is your superpower. Your picture is the definition of narcissist in college psychology text books. You’re the cover model for self-help books that tell people to believe in themselves.”

  Is she insulting me? I can’t tell. “I wrote a self-help book once.”

  “I’m not surprised. Was it called How to Make a Woman Defenseless?”

  I narrow my eyes. “Are you implying something?”

  Ivy shrugs. “Just curious.”

  “It’s called Rising Above. Maybe you don’t know this, but Maclean Callister has done some pretty significant things since our days at Brown. He inspired me”—I eye her, gauge her reaction—“to rise above the bullshit. And so I wrote that book.”

  “Did you publish it?”

  “No. The title is ironic. And my lawyers thought it would ruin my chances of building up the resort and garnering investors.”

  “So it’s not about rising above?”

  “No.”

  She waits for me to continue, but I don’t. Fuck it. If she wants to be nasty, I can play.

  “It’s about taking the low road?”

  “Maybe.”

  “And that’s why you’re the most infamous of them all?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  “You sure knew what to think a moment ago.”

  “I guess that was before I saw something real.”

  I lean even farther back in my chair, studying her. She really looks the college-prep boarding school part. I know. I’ve seen enough of those girls. Hell, I was part of that world myself. But I’m not now.

  Ivy Rockwell looks like she never left that world. She looks as protected, and secluded, and every bit as innocent as I imagined, regardless of her proclamation a few minutes ago.

  “I told you, this is the real me. All of it. So don’t fool yourself, Ivy. You were right about me.”

  “So why admit it before you get what you want?”

  I shrug. “Maybe I’ve already lost interest in you.”

  “Why? Not that I’m interested in you. But why? It’s like one second you’re into it, and then…” She realizes. She knows. She’s got me. “You’re still sensitive about it, aren’t you? Behind that facade of bravado, you’re still pissed off.”

  “Wouldn’t you be? If you were accused of something you didn’t do?”

  “I think I probably would’ve handled it differently. Gotten better advice.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, you guys all lawyered up. Refused to talk. That’s what they said anyway.”

  “Is that what they said? I really wouldn’t know. I didn’t watch TV for five years after the charges were filed. You don’t know what it’s like. You have no idea what it’s like.”

  “But if you’re innocent—”

  “Then I have nothing to hide? Do you really believe that? Doesn’t everyone have something to hide? Well”—I laugh, shake off the anger—“it would’ve been very stupid to talk. That was the best advice I ever got. Just shut the fuck up, Match said. We were all there, fucking bewildered. No idea what was happening. No idea we’d be arrested within a week. No idea that every asshole in the country would have an opinion about our personalities, our pasts, our habits. Our guilt.”

  “The Misters.”

  “Right,” I say. “Do you know why they call me Mr. Romantic?”

  “Claudette said it was ironic. Like your book title.”

  “That’s not why. I—” But I shut the fuck up. I hear Match in my head. Just shut the fuck up until my friend gets here. He’ll know what to do. And so we did shut the fuck up. We didn’t even tell each other what happened that night. No one knew what I was doing. I don’t know what they were doing. None of us had alibis, because that stupid bitch was our alibi. Every single one of us.

  “She set us up, Ivy. Set us up. Someone was pulling her strings, but we never figured out who. There’s enough enemies to go around, I guess. But I didn’t do anything wrong that night. Not one goddamned thing.”

  She looks down at her plate and lets out a long breath. “Sorry for mentioning it.”

  Sorry. She’s one of those girls. Sorry. The confrontation makes her uncomfortable. Well, I’m not an apologizer. And I love confrontation. “Don’t be sorry for me. It’s a waste of time.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she says, pushing away from the table. “I’m going to bed. If you want to hire me tomorrow, well, fine. I’ll talk about it. But I’m done talking tonight.”

  I stand up and put my napkin on my plate, our food hardly touched. “Hey,” I say, taking her hand and placing it on my arm, the way I did when I walked her over here. “I’ll walk you back. And I’ll still fuck you tonight, Ivy. Still give you the option to suck my cock. Because once I pay you for your time, it will never happen again.”

  She slaps me in the face and walks out.

  Chapter Fourteen - Ivy

  My heart is beating so fast, I feel like I might pass out. I push my way throughout the maze of tables, trying to get out of there before it happens, trying to get fresh air before I suffocate from the conversation I just had with a very fucked-up man.

  But Nolan grabs my arm, jerking me to a stop. “What was that for? Why the fuck did you hit me?”

  I jerk my arm away and place my hand over my eyes, swaying slightly. I’m going to faint. I hear the words in my head, and that shakes some sense into me.

  I am not going to faint.

  “I’m sorry. The heat. I’m not used to it. I feel dizzy, I want to go lie down.” I jerk away from him and walk out of the restaurant, straight through the back doors, and out into the pool area. I want to jump in so bad, but my feet keep walking. Right around it, towards the private bungalows. When I look over my shoulder as I enter the narrow walkway surrounded on all sides with palm trees, Nolan is following.

  I look forward again, urging my feet to go faster. But the water in the private pool looks too good to just pass by. The sun is just setting, the light is dim, but not dark. And I know if I hang out just a few more minutes, it will completely slip away and leave me alone.

  How do people live out here in this heat?

  It’s not the heat, Ivy. It’s him you need to get away from.

  I reach my bungalow, open the door, and practically throw myself across the threshold. Inhaling the cool AC and dropping into a chair.

  “Ivy?” Nolan knocks on the door. “What the fuck is happening?”

  “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

  He goes away. I know it. I don’t need to get up and look. I just sit there in the chair and breathe deeply.

  Why did I slap him?

  Because he said he wanted to fuck me?

  Wasn’t that why I came here?

  And he’s
offering me a job tomorrow.

  Wasn’t that what I really wanted? Both the job and the sex?

  It was. But not anymore. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know anything. I don’t understand this man, I don’t trust him, and I don’t think I should say anything else to him. At all.

  By the time I calm down the room is dark. I make out shadows of furniture. A love seat, the bedroom door, the little kitchenette.

  The bag on the other chair that holds the bathing suit I bought today.

  You didn’t buy it, Ivy.

  I get up and grab the bag, taking the suit out of the tissue paper it’s wrapped in, and hold it up.

  I hear a splash from outside and walk over to the window.

  Nolan is swimming. It figures. I was just thinking I’d like to go for a swim and he’s already out there.

  Wait. Why am I turning back into that timid girl I left behind in Rhode Island? Didn’t I come her to say yes to everything I’d normally decline? Didn’t I come her to say no to everything I’d normally accept?

  Then why the hell am I letting him control me?

  I slip my sundress off and rip the tags from the suit with my teeth and step into it. I wriggle the top part up to cover my breasts and adjust the starburst pattern of straps that point a path directly between my legs.

  Screw him. I’m going to let his filthy mouth control me? Unsettle me and make me run away like a child?

  No.

  But… That timid voice is insistent. But I don’t even know what I’m doing. He’s going to know and if he finds out I’m a virgin, he’ll stop. I just know it. Even though Claudette called him dangerous, I know he will stop.

  If I go out there and commit to losing my virginity to Nolan Delaney, then I can’t let him be the reason it doesn’t happen. I will be humiliated if he figures out I’m a virgin and refuses to participate in my little plan.

  Google.

  Yeah. That’s what the internet is for, right? I can Google it. I can look up what it’s like to lose your virginity and then get ready. Prepare myself.