Page 65 of The Romance Adventure

My heart pumps like I just took a few flights of stairs. “How long is a while?”

“Maybe permanently.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a plan.”

“I’m helping you with the resort.”

“I’m a lawyer, I’m sure I can find an off-ramp.”

“You really want to get rid of me, huh?” Her smile wavers with sadness.

“No, I just don’t want any complications and you come with a few, Isla,” I say.

“You’re not the easiest nut to crack either, you know. What with the he loves me-he loves me not bit.”

“Love? Last I checked, we’d only just crawled out of a pit of hate.”

“I meant it as an expression. But we kissed.”

“That doesn’t equate to love.”

“No, but it was quite a kiss.” She blushes, but then her expression drops. “The next day, you pretended it didn’t happen. The day after that, you acted as if I didn’t exist. I’m strong, Royal, but you don’t have permission to toy with my heart like Nutmeg and her catnip mouse.”

I scrub the back of my neck with my hand. Isla doesn’t hold back. She doesn’t back down. I want to apologize to her for suspecting that she was trying to defraud or manipulate me, but my middle name isn’t Courage.

The best I can do is apologize. “I’m sorry. I felt the need to create a verbal force field. When that didn’t work, a physical one.”

I expect her to ask why, but she says, “Your walls are high, Royal. I understand that more than you know, but it can get lonely inside the fortress. You say you stay away from emotions, but like the color wheel, there’s a whole spectrum. Grumpy ones, angry ones, indifference. You’re no stranger to those.”

I let out a long breath, but it doesn’t quite reach the bottom of my lungs because I’m keeping the lawsuit and my knowledge about her connection to Daxel Norris to myself.

“Apology accepted. I’m glad we went on a real date.”

“What was the beach picnic?”

“You’re wearing a suit.”

“I thought you said I need to lighten up, dress more casually.”

“I like you in the suit.”

Warmth creeps up my neck. It’s not every day I receive a compliment from someone as true as Isla Pratt.

“Remember when you asked me what turned me on? A tailored suit, muscles—quads especially—kind eyes that make me forget my name...and a clean kitchen sink.”

I can’t help it. My lips lift in a smile. “Noted.”

“Oh, look. You have teeth!”

“What? How else would I eat? If I recall, you said something violent about knocking them out.”

“It was all in theory. But I saw them just then when you smiled for the first time.”

“Of course I smile.”

“Not until right now.”

“Trust me, I smile.”