Page 31 of One Hot Chase

"Oh, please," I scoff, trying to inject some levity into the situation. "I'm sure your past is far more interesting than mine. Probably filled with daring rescues and exotic locales."

He chuckles, a deep, rich sound that makes my toes curl. "You'd be surprised. But I'd much rather hear about your backstory. Tell me, what did you do when you found your husband shagging another woman?"

I hesitate, caught off guard by his genuine interest. This isn't how the conversation should go. I'm supposed to be saying goodbye, not spilling my guts to a virtual stranger. All I can do is stammer, feeling more exposed than ever, until I finally force myself to act like an adult. "I may have thrown his entire wardrobe out the window where it landed in the mud. I tossed his golf clubs too. Oh, and his precious collection of vintage whiskey got washed down the drain."

Declan's eyes widen. Then he busts out laughing. "Crikey, remind me never to cross you."

I start laughing too. "What can I say? I have a flair for the dramatic."

"I have no doubts you do." He wraps a lock of my hair around his finger, twirling it over and over. "Tell me, Sabrina Remington, what other talents are you hiding behind that feisty exterior?"

The way he says my name sends a shiver down my spine. This is dangerous territory, but I can't seem to stop myself from playing along. "Sorry, only my PC will know the answer to that question."

"If I beg, will you tell me?"

"Maybe. How badly do you want to know?"

"Desperately."

The intensity of his gaze makes my breath hitch. I need to change the subject before I do something stupid---like drag him into that bathroom after all.

"Well, for starters, I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue," I blurt out, immediately regretting my choice of words. Way to keep things PG-rated, Sabrina.

Declan's brows shoot up, his cocky smile widening into a full-blown grin. "Now that's a talent I'd love to see demonstrated."

"In your dreams. Better go hunt for another cherry-stem-twirling girl."

He moves even closer, his lips almost brushing my ear. "Oh, I can assure you, Ms. Remington, my fantasies are far more inventive."

A shiver runs through me at his words. This man is dangerous, in all the best and worst ways. "Well, aren't you full of surprises. I thought you British types were supposed to be all prim and proper."

Declan throws his head back and laughs, the sound rich and inviting. "Oh pet, you have so much to learn about us Brits. We're only proper in public. Behind closed doors...Now that's another story. But you know what I'm like after dark."

I need to get out of here before I do something reckless. But my feet seem to have become rooted to this spot, my body betraying my better judgment.

"Is that so?" I hear myself say, my voice husky for reasons I can't explain. "And here I thought all you guys did behind closed doors was drink tea and discuss the weather."

"You know that's not true, love. I've demonstrated that for you multiple times."

My heart races at the implication. This is spiraling out of control fast. I need to leave, to put some distance between us before I throw caution to the wind. But there's a part of me---a reckless, wild part---that wants to see just how far this can go.

Declan drags one finger down my breastbone. "I believe you're quite familiar with what I can be tempted to try."

"Hmm, yes." I pucker my lips and tap a finger on his nose. "You must not have been too excited about seeing again since it took you an hour to finally waltz into the pub. The first time you chased me, it didn't take so long. Must be losing interest."

"Never." He feigns offense. "You gave me no clues whatsoever. Naturally, I needed time to deduce your location."

But how does he keep finding me? It's a mystery I desperately want to solve, though I really shouldn't try. Inviting him to pursue me had been a lark, that's all.

Was it only a lark? Yes, absolutely.

Declan tenderly sweeps a lock of hair away from my cheek. "Let's go for a walk along the river. It's lovely in the evening."

That sounds an awful lot like a romantic thing. My pulse sped up when he made that suggestion, but not because I'm exhilarated by the offer. No, I'm...afraid. Of what he might say next. Of his tender expression. No, no, no, I won't go down the relationship road again. I traveled to London to find my perfect man, but now the idea frightens me.

Why couldn't Declan just keep acting like a jerk? I'm so damn confused.

"I need to visit the ladies' room," I tell him, snatching up my purse and coat.