Page 31 of The Unwilling Bride
I release her hands and rise from the bed.
“He is James Hamilton. The star of the culinary world. The man who earned three Michelin stars in five years, which is practically unheard of. He’s the best there is."
She shrugs. "But if he makes you unhappy?—"
"I’m learning loads from him." I begin to pace. "In the few weeks I’ve been there, I’ve learned more from him than I have in my career so far."
"Is he good-looking?"
I stop and turn to her. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"So, he is good-looking?" She waggles her eyebrows.
I rub at my temples. "He’s definitely better looking than I remember him to be.”
She studies me with her big eyes. "You know him?"
"I met him. Once. Years ago." I look away then back at her. "He’s Phe’s older brother."
"Phoenix Hamilton. Who you went to university with?" She slaps her forehead lightly. "Of course, I should have made the connection. And when did you meet him? And why didn’t you tell me, bish?"
There’s a hurt look in her eyes. Especially because I share everything with her.
“You were so busy with Freya; I didn’t want to bother you then.”
Meeting James, only to have him walk away the same night, had been disorienting.
It took me a while to unpack why I’d been so moved by the encounter. And Briar had her hands full with Freya. My own worries seemed insignificant then.
Now, though, seeing James every day feels even more overwhelming. I need to talk to someone. And I trust Briar.
We’ve never betrayed each other’s secrets.
"It was just one night.”
She begins to speak; I hold up my hand. "Nope, not a one-night stand. We just talked."
Her brows lift. “So, you didn’t have sex?’
“Nope.” I raise my shoulders. “We spoke all night. He met me and Phoenix at a nightclub. Then, instead of dropping me home as planned, we drove around London, spoke about stuff, and then he brought me home."
Her lips turn down. “Not even a kiss?"
I redden a little.
"There might have been one kiss. At the end. But he left. End of story."
"You’d have liked for there to have been more?"
I hesitate, not wanting to admit the complex feelings this man elicits in me. "We are different people now."
She looks at me speculatively.
"What?" I scowl.
“Just wondering if that’s why the two of you are always fighting. Maybe that’s your version of foreplay.”
I snort. Foreplay. With the Duke of Deep Freeze who has his emotions parked where the sun don’t shine? Please.
