Chapter Twelve
Declan
She wants to know about my romantic past. I suppose I owe her that much, considering the painful memories she related to me. Her ex-husband sounds like a right bastard. The way she destroyed his wardrobe was brilliant, and it gave me more insight into the enigmatic woman I've kissed, shagged, and chased through the streets of London.
No, it was more than a shag. I made love to Sabrina Remington in my suite at the Savoy, then again in my flat. What does that mean? For now, I don't care.
So, I focus on the present---and the woman who has enthralled me. I peel her arms away from her midsection, clasping her hands. "Why don't we find a taxi and go back to my flat?"
Her gaze narrows. "To do what?"
"Fuck, of course."
She scowls at me. "You're trying to trick me into sleeping with you again. That's not the game, Declan. It isn't what we agreed to. You are supposed to chase me."
"I've caught you twice. Isn't that enough?"
The moment I spoke those words, I realized my mistake. But understanding came too late.
Sabrina lifts her chin, straps her arms over her chest, and puckers her lips. "Play the game or walk away. Your choice, jackass."
That word---jackass---actually stung this time. How strange.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "All right, all right. I'll play this your way, Sabrina. But don't think for a second I'm not aware of what you're doing."
She quirks an eyebrow, a challenge dancing in those emerald eyes. "Oh? And what exactly am I doing, Mr. Know-It-All?"
"You're scared," I say softly, taking a step closer. "Scared of what this might become if we let it."
For a moment, her fa?ade cracks, and I see a flicker of vulnerability in her expression. But it's gone as quickly as it materialized.
"Scared?" She huffs, with a faint tremble in her voice. "Please. I eat fear for breakfast."
I decide to push a little further. "Then prove it. Have dinner with me tonight."
Sabrina's lips part as if she's about to speak. But she clamps them shut again instead. After a moment, she smiles with devious intent.
What is Bree plotting now?
"Okay," she says. "I'll have dinner with you and get naked with you too. On one condition."
"I accept your condition."
"But I haven't told you what it is yet."
With a careless shrug of my shoulder, I pretend as if I don't give a fuck about anything. And I step closer until we're nearly touching. "Doesn't matter. Whatever it is, I'm game."
A mixture of surprise and intrigue flickers across her face. She recovers quickly, though.
"Sure about that, Mr. Confident?" She trails a finger down my chest. "Here's the deal. You have to catch me. For real this time. But first, answer one question for me."
"Ask away, darling."
"How have you been able to find me so quickly? Twice I ran away, and you gave me a long head start. Do you have psychic powers, Mr. Wilde?"
"Ah, no, it's nothing like that."
"Then how---"
"Does it matter how?"
She lifts her brows. "I'll count to five, and if you haven't answered my question yet, I'm getting the heck out of here and the chase will be over."
I wipe a hand over my mouth, averting my gaze. "I, ah, played a dirty trick on you."
She leans back against the railing, eyeing me with skepticism. "Five, four, three---"
"Enough. I'll tell you." But I hesitate again before I finally spill the beans. "I sort of, ah, stole your mobile phone while you were in the bathroom in my flat and texted one of my employees. He talked me through how to insert a tracker that would allow me to follow your every movement."
Sabrina gawps at me. "You dirty, lying, conniving snake."
I've lost her, haven't I? And I deserve whatever scorn she heaps upon me. Blimey, if she screamed for a copper I wouldn't complain. In fact, I'd hold out my wrists and wait to be arrested.
But she doesn't even gasp. Instead, Bree gazes at me dispassionately for precisely three seconds according to my pounding pulse. Then she laughs.
My brows furrow. "You aren't incensed at my betrayal?"
She laughs again and playfully punches my chest. "Why would I be upset? This is a game, after all. The most fun I've ever had, to be honest. Why on earth would I quit now when it's just getting good?"
I suspect my expression mimics that of a cartoon character who just received a shock.
"Catch me if you can, Sir Hot Stuff."
Before I can react, she's darting away, her laughter trailing behind her as she disappears into the crowded London street where vendors peddle their wares. I stand here for a moment, stunned, before a grin spreads across my face.
"Bloody hell," I mutter, shaking my head and smiling. "You're on, Sabrina Remington."
I bolt after her, weaving through throngs of tourists and locals. The chase is on, and my heart races with exhilaration. Bree's strawberry blonde head bobs and weaves through the crowd, a beacon guiding me forward.
She darts left down a narrow alley, and I follow, my longer strides closing the gap between us. Just as I think I've got her, she spins around a corner, her laughter echoing off the brick walls.
"Come on, Declan!" she calls over her shoulder. "I thought you were supposed to be good at this!"
She never even demanded I remove the tracker from her mobile. And she let me get away with not telling her about my previous relationship.
I growl like a ruddy beast, picking up my pace as we burst out onto a bustling street, startling a group of pigeons into flight. Bree doesn't miss a beat, using the distraction to her advantage as she slips into a nearby shop. I pause outside, scanning the windows. It's a vintage clothing store with racks of colorful garments visible through the glass. Clever girl , I think, smirking. She's trying to lose me in a maze of fabrics and accessories. I push through the door, the little bell tinkling overhead. The shop is a riot of colors and textures, with narrow aisles winding between displays of dresses, hats, and scarves. I weave through the maze, keeping my eyes peeled for a flash of strawberry blonde hair.
"May I help you find something, sir?" an elderly shopkeeper asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
I flash her my most charming smile. "Just browsing, thank you. For my sister."
A giggle from somewhere in the back of the store draws my attention. I move swiftly, rounding a corner to find Bree trying on an enormous, feathered hat. She strikes a dramatic pose, batting her eyelashes at me.
"What do you think, Decky? Is it me?"
"Absolutely stunning. Though I think it might clash with your running shoes."
And I don't even mind that she used Julian's moronic nickname for me.
Bree fake pouts, tossing the hat aside. "Too bad. I was hoping to distract you with my fashion sense."
"Nice try." I step closer. "But I've got you now."
"Do you really?"
In one fluid motion, she ducks under my outstretched arm and darts past me, weaving through the racks of clothing. I spin round, giving chase once more. We dodge between mannequins and displays, earning a scandalized gasp from the shopkeeper as we race through her carefully curated collection.
"Sorry!" Bree calls over her shoulder, flashing an apologetic smile at the flustered woman.
I'm hot on Sabrina's heels as she bursts back out onto the street, the shop bell jangling wildly behind us. The chase resumes, our laughter mingling with the sounds of beeping cars and chattering voices. Bree leads me on a merry dance through winding alleys and bustling squares, always just out of reach.
As we round another corner, I spot an opportunity. There's a small park ahead, with a fountain at its center. Bree heads straight for it, clearly planning to use the open space to her advantage. But I've got other ideas.
I propel myself onward, moving faster, closing the gap between us. Just as we reach the edge of the fountain, I lunge forward to wrap my arms around Bree's waist. We tumble to the ground together, our momentum carrying us straight into the shallow water with a spectacular splash. Sputtering and laughing, we surface in a tangle of limbs. Bree's hair is plastered to her face, and water droplets cling to her eyelashes. She looks utterly ridiculous and completely breathtaking.
"Gotcha," I say, grinning triumphantly.
Though Sabrina tries to hide it, she's smiling too. "I suppose you did. Though I'm not sure dunking us both in a public fountain counts as a proper catch."
"Oh? And what would you consider to be an appropriate capture, Ms. Remington?"
She pretends to think about it, tapping her chin thoughtfully as water drips from her nose. "Well, Your Knightliness, I suppose a proper catch would involve less public indecency and more...private indecency."
I can't resist laughing. "I think that can be arranged."
Standing up, I offer her my hand. She accepts it, and I pull her to her feet. We're both soaked to the bone, clothes clinging to our bodies in a way that's sure to draw attention. But in this moment, I couldn't care less about the curious stares of passersby.
"Your place or mine?" I ask.
She pretends to consider, wringing water from her hair. "Hmm, well, considering we've thoroughly christened your flat already, why don't we try mine this time?"
"You checked out of your suite at the Savoy. Do you have a place of your own here in London?"
"Um...no."
I cluck my tongue, shaking my head. "Are you always this unprepared?"
My mobile rings.
"Bloody hell," I hiss as I swipe to accept the call, not even bothering to see who's trying to contact me. "What do you want?"
"You're in a foul mood. Did that girl throw you over?"
"Julian?"
"Who else would it be? Maybe you have amnesia, eh?"
I push Sabrina away and stumble backward, still trying to make sense of what I'm hearing. "Did you want something?"
"Yes. To find out if you'll be bringing Sabrina to our family dinner tonight."
Dinner? I have no idea what my brother is talking about. My cock had begun to swell the moment I pulled Sabrina into my arms and her soaked dress revealed her hard nipples. Nothing else can get through my brain right now. "What are you on about?"
"Dinner," my brothers says with sarcastic emphasis. "That's when human beings gather around a table to share various types of food."
"You're a cheeky sod. Do you know that?"
"Just answer my question and I'll say goodbye. Dinner at home, yea or nay?"
"Too busy tonight. Goodbye, Julian." I disconnect the call and struggle in vain to avoid noticing how translucent Bree's dress has become.
She quirks an eyebrow at me. "Family dinner, huh? Trying to hide me from the relatives already? Julian's the only one I've met, and that happened by accident."
I groan, running a hand through my wet hair. "I don't care to discuss my family right now. They have certain standards."
"Oh, I bet they aren't as uptight as you're making them sound," she teases, sidling up to me. "Besides, I thought you were supposed to be showing me a good time. What could be more entertaining than an awkward family dinner?"
I narrow my gaze on her. "You're enjoying this far too much."
She grins, unrepentant. "Guilty as charged. So, what do you say? Shall we give your family the shock of their lives by showing up soaking wet and disheveled?"
For a moment, I actually consider doing that. But no, I have a sodding reputation to uphold. Yes, and my outdoor adventures with Bree fit right in with my vaunted status. Maybe it's time I developed a bad reputation.
"You wanted to know about my past romantic entanglements," I say. "Well, there was only one serious relationship."
"What happened?"
"Eleanor and I dated for three years. I wanted to get married, and after two more months of thinking about it, she finally agreed." I rub my hand over my mouth, an unconscious delaying tactic that has become a habit lately, even before I met Sabrina. "But it didn't work out as planned."
Silence follows. An extended silence. Sabrina watches me with a neutral expression until she finally can't stand it any longer. "Are you going to explain the rest?"
I glance at her clothes. "You're shivering. Let's find someplace to get warm."
"Nice try, Declan." She gives me a stern look that she doesn't seem quite capable of pulling off. "Why won't you just tell me what happened between you and Eleanor?"
Because I know how it will sound, that's why. But I owe her the truth. So, I take a deep breath and meet her gaze.
"Eleanor left me at the altar," I say quietly. "Quite literally. I was standing there in my tuxedo, waiting for her to walk down the aisle, when her maid of honor came running in to tell me Eleanor had fled the church. Later, I learned she had run off with my best man."
Sabrina's eyes widen. "Oh, Declan. I'm so sorry."
I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. "It was a long time ago. Water under the bridge and all that."
But Sabrina sees right through me. She steps closer, placing a gentle hand on my arm. "It still hurts though, doesn't it?"
I look away, unable to meet her knowing gaze. "Sometimes. But it's not the leaving that hurts the most. It's the not knowing why."
Sabrina's hand tightens on my arm, her eyes softening with understanding. "She never explained?"
I shake my head. "Not a word. Just vanished. I spent months trying to figure out what I'd done wrong, what I could have changed."
Bree clasps my hand. "It wasn't your fault. Sometimes people just...run."
Her words hit close to home, and I give her a pointed look. "Like you've been doing?"
She has the grace to look sheepish, but there's a spark of defiance in her eyes. "That's different. I'm not running away from you, not really. I'm running...toward something."
"And what might that be?"
"I'm not entirely sure," she admits softly. "But I think...I'm running toward the person I want to be. The one who isn't afraid to take risks, to let go, to..."
"To what?" I prompt, my voice barely above a whisper.
She takes a deep breath. "To fall in love again."