Page 10 of An American in London

If I thought he was handsome before—which, no doubt, I did—the bright white of his shirt lights up his face to a truly devastating effect. The contours of his cheekbones are so high, I’ve got altitude sickness just looking at them. His face is the kind photographers love to take pictures of and painters like to recreate on canvas—he’s a classical beauty. An image I’m much more used to seeing carved in marble or up on the big screen in a movie theater. My gaze follows his throat to his open collar and down. There is no disguising his fit, lean body under the thin white cotton.

“Did you just flex?” Nick asks Ben.

“What?” Ben asks, picking up his glass of wine. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I think you’re trying to impress our American friend.”

“I told you, she’s not my friend,” Ben says. “She’s my stalker.”

“Nope,” I say. “I’ve never followed you anywhere. And FYI, I’m staying at this hotel, and you kidnapped my cocktail. Who’s stalking whom, exactly?”

Nick grins. “If he didn’t want you to join us for dinner, believe me, you wouldn’t be here. Ben is not a man who puts up with things he doesn’t like.”

Ben starts to protest, but before he can vocalize what we all know he’s thinking, I interject. “Ben told me you were meeting to discuss business. What business are you in?” I ask.

I want to change the subject. There’s no doubt Ben is attractive, but I’m not interested in romance at the moment. I want to focus on work. It feels more solid than being a girlfriend. I was blindsided by Jed dumping me, and although the initial hurt has faded quicker than I expected, I’m not ready for anything new—not even a holiday romance.

“I’m in property development,” Nick says.

I nod and turn to Ben. “You too?”

Ben shrugs. “Among other things.”

“What are we discussing?” I ask, glancing between the two friends.

“Ben wants to buy a group of hotels, but the owner doesn’t want to sell.”

“Nick,” Ben growls. “We’re not going to talk about business in front of—”

“Oh, don’t worry about me!” I say. “My ex-fiancé was a corporate attorney. Practically all he did was discuss business. I won’t be offended at all.”

“I’m not concerned with you being offended,” Ben says, his jaw tight. “I’m concerned about confidentiality. I don’t discuss my business affairs with strangers, even if Iamstalking them.” He delivers the line in such a deadpan way, I nearly miss it.

“Ha! So you admit it,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

Ben’s expressionless, despite plenty of evidence that he has a real sense of humor in there, hiding deep down inside.

“And I work in banking,” I reassure him. “I’m a professional—completely trustworthy. I’m not going to tell a soul.”

“I’m not discussing it,” Ben says.

“I think you’re going to want to hear what I’m going to say,” Nick says. “Because the duke is hosting a shooting party the weekend after next, and I’m invited.”

Ben freezes, his glass halfway between the table and his deliciously full lips.

“I’m taking Elizabeth, obviously,” Nick continues. “I mentioned I was meant to be away with an old friend and managed to get the invitation extended to you andyoursignificant other too.”

Ben places his glass back on the table. He seems to lift himself up in his chair by five inches. “Are you serious?” There’s a grit in his voice I haven’t heard before.

“Completely. So stop fucking around and let’s make a plan.”

“We need to stop fucking around and make a plan,” Ben echoes.

I’m not quite sure who the duke is, or what the hell a shooting party is, but apparently it’s serious. And also, honestly, it sounds a little dull. I might ditch dinner and go rewatch one of my favorite Daniel De Luca films. I’ve got the urge to snuggle up with some popcorn and press “Play” onThe Lady Loves a Loser. I loved that one so much because Daniel and Olivia Lamb, who gives Elizabeth Taylor vibes, really seem to hate each other for the first part of the movie, but it’s completely obvious they’re perfect for each other.

“You know, I’m going to leave you guys to eat your dinner and make your plans in peace. I’m hanging up my stalking shoes and gonna slip on my Netflix slippers.”

“Please stay,” Nick says. “I actually think you might be helpful to Ben.”

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