The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (49 page)

“You’re American?” I ask, forcing away my ungentlemanly thoughts.

“No, I’m from Canada.”

I wait for her to continue. I want to know everything about her.

“I needed a change of scenery, so I opted for London. I’ve been staying at the Intercontinental until I find an apartment. In fact, Stacey and I are going on the hunt tomorrow.”

So, she’s here permanently, not just for a visit.
Very good to know
.

I watch a myriad of expressions cross her face. She seems anxious, shuffling slightly in her seat. It’s endearing.
Do I make her nervous?
I can tell she’s attracted to me. At least, I think she is. Lord knows I’m attracted to her.
I feel a spark I haven’t felt in a long time. Her slight nervousness is so damn adorable. Her facial expressions are so telling, I’m certain she’s feeling the same spark.
Fuck, she’s perfect.

I reach up to brush a piece of her hair from her face. “God, you’re beautiful,” I whisper, taking in her slight shock at my uncontrollable touch. I watch as shock transforms into slight annoyance.
Bloody hell, why did I do that?

She laughs sarcastically, “How many drinks have you had?”

Shit, she thinks I’m a player.
“I’m not drinking tonight.”

“Oh,” she stutters, a flash of surprise crossing her face, her eyes darting to my glass.

“It’s cranberry,” I lift it to my lips for a sip, shaking off the player vibe.

I catch her watching me intently, a slight blush crossing her cheeks before she turns away. Her restless demeanor is intriguing. Why is she uncomfortable?
Is it because of who I am? Possibly. But something about her tells me it’s more than that.
Whatever it is, I can’t explain this unique pull I feel towards her. I do, however, intend to act on it.

“Alexander . . . ”

“Alex,” I correct her with a smile.

“Sorry . . . Alex. You have me at a disadvantage here.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, this isn’t exactly normal.”

Normal?
“What’s normal?” I question, leaning forward.
I happen to love how
normal
this is.

She hesitates slightly in her reply, her eyes landing on my chest for a brief moment before her gaze darts back to mine.
Is she checking me out?
“You know, normal . . . A man meeting a woman, having a nice chat, getting to know each other.”

I laugh out loud at the irony of her statement. I can’t recall the last time I experienced such a
normal
meeting with a woman. “Pardon my confusion, I thought that was exactly what we were doing.”

A look of frustration crosses her face, “Look, you’re a celebrity. Currently being stared at by
everyone.
That’s far from normal. I’m unnerved just sitting here. Simply put, you’re a superstar, and for me to be sitting with you just doesn’t happen in real life. This entire scenario is just a bit much. And just so there’s no confusion, by scenario I mean, an average girl—like me—catching the eye of said superstar for anything
more
than just a quick lay.”

Damn.
That stung a little
—an instant reminder that my career
choice will forever taint my deep-rooted desire for normalcy in my life. I quickly shake off the sting. The idea that this beautiful woman considers herself ‘average’ blows my mind.
Jesus, surely she must realize she’s wrong on both accounts.

“Furthermore, how can you be sure I’m not sitting here talking to you solely because of
who
you are, versus simply a man I’m truly interested in getting to know? I’m not sure myself . . . ” she trails off, looking down shyly, fiddling with beer bottle.

I don’t know what to say. How do I make her understand that in this moment I’m just
Alex?
Not
Alexander Tate,
the celebrity,
just a man truly interested in getting to know her.

“I’m not ‘that girl,’ Alex. Perhaps you’ve chosen the wrong girl,” she adds, continuing to avoid my gaze, staring towards the dance floor.

“Just so
I’m
clear, when you say
‘
that girl,’ exactly what ‘girl’ do you think I’m hoping you are?” I question.

Her eyes flash back to mine, suggesting my questioning interest has clearly taken her off guard.
If you thought I’d give up after that speech you’re mistaken, beautiful. It’s not every day I come across someone like you.

“Look, you have a swarm of women down there just vying for your attention. Or should I say, vying for a night of no-strings-attached hot sex with a superstar. Willing, able women you can surely have your pick from. Like I said, given I’m the one sitting with you, I’m sorry to say you chose the wrong girl. Besides, you’d probably be disappointed with average.”

Oh, how wrong you are, beautiful Aby. The
right
girl fell into my lap, the perfect girl.
I need her to understand that. “That’s a very presumptuous assertion to make, Aby. Perhaps ‘that
girl’ that I’m looking for will be more than a quick fuck. And you’re far from average. I’d prefer you didn’t label yourself as such.”
Brilliant, way to be subtle, man.

Though she’s obviously taken aback by my words, she remains composed, taking a sip of her drink, assessing me intently. I can see the wheels spinning in her beautiful head.

“Alex, I’m the girl who made a lot of mistakes and plans on never repeating them. Jumping into bed with a man on a whim would be another one. Famous superstar or not. If I’m being honest, I can’t see any other reason why you’d want me here. Other than Stacey’s insistence, and perhaps you feel some unwarranted obligation. Either way, sleeping with someone I don’t know is not something I’ll do. The man for me has a tall bill to fit, and I plan on maintaining my course without sidetracks. I’m sure that’s a bit too much reality for you to hear, given your efforts are for the sole purpose of getting into my pants, but there you have it. Regardless of who you are. What I mean is . . . whether you’re a superstar I’ve fantasized about forever, means nothing. I want more.”

She’s fantasized about me?
I’m instantly assailed with the thoughts of what those fantasies have entailed. Surely that solidifies that her efforts to brush me off aren’t indicative of her true feelings.
It’s nice to have confirmation that I have at least a chance.
I
could
run with that.
But, I won’t.
This isn’t a pick-up. If I take that route, and maximize on her inadvertent admission, that’s exactly what she’d think it is. Plus, I have a feeling she hasn’t quite realized what she just admitted.

I watch her eyes bulge slightly, realization setting in as she takes a sip of her beer, embarrassment flashing across her perfect face. Coughing a little, the beer slips through her lips, cascading down her chin.
She’s simply the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
I can’t resist brushing my thumb across the droplets along her jaw, unconsciously bringing it to my mouth to suck the taste.
Damn, I don’t even know this girl, yet I’m uncontrollably touching her.

Attempting to sidetrack my forward action, I continue as though nothing happened, “So, describe the man that fits this ‘tall bill’ of yours.”

She sits up straighter in her seat, my question seemingly pulling her from the momentary embarrassment. “That’s a very personal question coming from a man I just met.”

As is my licking away your discarded beer, but that didn’t scare you off.
Thankfully. And, now that I’ve solidified my unrelenting yearning for this woman, I need to know the answer. I want to be that man . . . ”Well, you have me intrigued. Enlighten me.”

She stares out at the dance floor, as though gathering her thoughts before looking back to me. “Well, I want to be his world and everything in it. I want a man that can, metaphorically, make me fall to my knees by just whispering in my ear, and make me tremble in yearning. I want a man to build a life with. One that knows who he is and what he wants, and doesn’t shy away from getting it. Me included. I want to feel desired above all things, and . . . worshipped. I want to wake up every morning and feel blessed that he’s mine. Essentially, I want to be loved, and love wholeheartedly in return.”

I’m stunned, watching her cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink once again, speechless as her words float through my mind. It’s as though she’s jumped inside my head—expressing all of
my
deepest desires as her own.

“I should go,” she quickly blurts, pushing up to stand.

What? Go? You can’t go! Not when I’ve just found you . . .

“Stacey and I have a big day tomorrow. It was a pleasure meeting you, Alex. Good luck with your career. You’re a very gifted actor,” she extends her hand.

Standing, I grasp her small fingers in my grip, not wanting to let her go. I stare into her eyes for a moment, hoping that my feelings are evident in my gaze before slowly leaning in to whisper in her ear, “The pleasure was all mine, Aby. Thank you for enlightening me with the man who’ll fit your tall bill.”

Her breath catches at my words. Flashing a sweet smile, she turns to leave. I watch as she walks away, determined to see her again.
Damn straight I’ll see her again. I just met the girl that I’m going to marry.

Pulling my mobile from my pocket, I begin a text to Helena.

Subject: We need to talk.

noun

1. the faculty or activity of imagining things, especially things that are impossible or improbable.

We believe fantasy is healthy; to dream and to desire, to let our minds wander to places of fun and ecstasy . . . A huge acknowledgement to fantasies. May you forever stay in the forefront of our minds.

To our husbands, you are our
more.
Thank you for your unwavering support, encouragement and love.

To our family/children for their support—thank you for helping Daddy & Uncle Pat while Mommy & Aunt Christa were writing a fairytale {that you are NOT allowed to read until you are thirty}.

Mudder, we loves you some lot. A HUGE thank you for your support, continued motivation, and love. We love you, Mommy.

To J.D.—you ROCK! To M.M.—thank you for being my ‘Stacey,’ I Love you. To A.M.—“Your candor is something I find quite refreshing,” thank you for that. To C.D. & J.M.—we love that you LOVE our book. To J.G.—sorry about your roast, I love you. To I.S.—sorry about the ambulance, give it another go. Thank you C.P. for saving our error-ridden asses.

We received so much love and support through this journey. Thank you to everyone.

To the Authors who have paved the way before us, thank you for creating wonderful worlds through which we journey . . . live, love & laugh.

To our Readers, THANK YOU. May you always dream of
more,
and reach for it. You don’t have to look far to find it. It comes from within
you.