Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“Not a thing!” she admits.
“Well, that is a relief.” Fin smiles widely. “Or we might be forced to spill a few beans of our own. Like how he hasn’t mentioned your name to us once.”
“I was keeping her all to myself,” I murmur, angling my gaze her way. Though her lashes veil her thoughts, I get a visceral kick from her pink cheeks.
“Is that a New England accent I detect?” Fin asks, leaning back in his chair.
“Connecticut,” she agrees with a small nod. “Fairfield County.”
“Westport?”
She flicks a shoulder. Not quite a yes.
“Swanky,” Fin replies anyway.
“Says the man who owns half of a resort in Thailand,” Matt mutters in the vein of Just get a holiday home like regular people.
“Westport is old money.” Fin sends me a querulous glance. “And now Oliver is, I’m sure, about to remind me that a hundred years is a long time to a dumb ’Murican.”
“And a hundred miles is a long distance to a Londoner,” Matt finishes.
“Hilarious,” I drawl as Eve watches the pair happily. I am going to need alcohol. “And I didn’t say Americans were stupid. I believe I said that, for all your Ivy League education, you can be reckless.”
“You’re confusing me with Mr. Extreme Sports over there.” He hooks a thumb Matt’s way.
“Fine, he’s reckless, and you’re stupid. Happy now?”
Fin turns to Eve. “If I’m stupid, and he’s reckless, then Oliver is . . .”
“Oh.” She scrunches her nose delightfully. “Short tempered? Arrogant? Self-important?”
Fin gives a satisfied twist of his lip. “Just checking you knew what you were getting into.”
“You of all people know I never pretend to be what I’m not,” I retort.
“And what he is,” Fin says, folding his arms against the tabletop to lean in, “is the devil. Isn’t that right?” he adds, his gaze meeting mine.
“By name and by nature,” I drawl, unimpressed.
“What am I missing?” Amusement lightens Eve’s voice, though she refuses to look my way. She’s not missing anything, given she’s called me that herself.
“Deubel. It means ‘devil,’ right, Oliver?”
“‘Devil of a man,’ if I’m being pedantic. Swiss German in origin.” I swirl the whisky around my glass before lifting my eyes to Eve. “Do you want to add that one to the list?”
Her eyes sparkle with delight. “The devil has the best disguises. Sometimes, he even pretends he’s a gentleman.”
“I’m so glad you can see me beyond the cloven hooves.”
Eve throws back her head, her laughter unrestrained. God, she sends my head spinning. Or she might if I were a different kind of man.
The waiter’s arrival is timed well. Drinks are ordered, and menus are delivered.
“Was I right?” Fin then asks. “About Westport?”
“Well, that depends,” she counters. “The rest of the county would say Westport is filled with upstarts. Besides, real old money is often more like no money left these days.”
“Rich in assets, poor in cash. Keep darning those tweeds but hang on to that Rockwell!”
“I don’t own a Rockwell, and there won’t be one in some future inheritance. As for inheriting tweed, my sutures are better than my darning skills.”
“A doctor?” Fin sounds impressed.
“Only for the deserving,” she adds prettily.
“Eve is a veterinarian,” I put it.
“Well, that makes sense.” His hands grip the arms of his chair as he turns to me with a grin, but I head him off.
“If there’s a dog in this company, it’s you, Phineas.”
“Never was a truer word spoken,” Matt agrees.
Eve laughs, and Fin protests, though the reality is he’s as happy as a dog with two dicks that he’s amused my pretty guest.
Wine is ordered and poured, when Eve slants me a provoking look from under her lashes.
“I get to order for myself today?” Her gaze is feisty, her address playful.
“Oh, no. Tell me you did not,” Fin complains. “You pompous ass!”
“I was being chivalrous.”
“It’s really not that bad,” Eve puts in. “It was just a glass of champagne, but I could see how it could become a habit.” She narrows her eyes, as though she’s trying to see inside me. Thankfully, she’s a vet and not a clairvoyant.
“Life would be easier if people listened to me.”
“Says the megalomaniac with the superiority complex,” Matt says, not hearing the suggestion in my tone. “The one we all know and like anyway. Mostly. So, Eve,” he says, turning to her, “do you live in London?”
“Hoxton,” she adds airily, which must be the place her flat was before she moved in with him. “And I work in a clinic in Knightsbridge.”
“I bet you get a lot of pampered pooches.”
“We get all kinds of pampered everything.”
“Have we met?” Fin puts in suddenly. “I can’t help but think you look familiar.”
“Do you own a pampered pooch?” Her smile seems a little stiff.
“It’ll come to me,” he says with a shake of his finger. “I’m pretty good with faces.”
“And terrible to pretty faces,” Matt mutters, picking up his menu.