Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I stare up at him. “Where on earth did you get this car?”
He flashes me a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Family heirloom. I inherited it when my father passed away. It’s a Rolls-Royce Phantom V. Built in the sixties. It’s been passed down since then. I have a guy who works magic on vintage cars like this. He’s kept it in great shape.”
I narrow my eyes. He owns a haberdashery filled to the brim with fine antiques, never goes outside without wearing a hat, and now he pulls up in a vintage Rolls-Royce. I’ve never been so intrigued by a man before.
Part of me—the straight-line part of me—wants to turn and run in the other direction. This is the kind of man who could throw a wrench into my five- and ten-year plans.
But the part of me that took a different route home today wants to get in. See where this man takes me.
So I get inside the car. He smiles at me, closes the door, and gets in the driver side. He places the keys into the ignition and the engine roars to life almost majestically.
The drive to my flat is far too short for this vehicle. Within four minutes, he’s pulled up in front of my building.
“This it?” he asks.
“It is.” I turn to him. “Thank you so much. You’ve truly been a perfect gentleman, giving me a ride home like this.”
He shrugs. “Like I said, it wouldn’t be right for me to let you walk home after dark when I can easily give you a ride.”
I chuckle. “Did you just want to show off your fancy car?”
“Hardly.” He smirks. “Maybe.”
He puts the car into park and then walks over to my side, opening the door for me again. I look up at him, marveling at his chivalry.
He reaches a hand out. “Careful, Alissa. It’s slippery.”
My God, I love hearing him speak my name. There’s something almost musical to it, like the warm whisper of a cello’s lower register.
I get out, thankful for his steady hand as I try to establish some traction on the icy sidewalk.
“I’ll walk you to your door,” he says.
I feel a rush of warmth to my cheeks. “You really don’t have to.”
He offers his arm. “I insist.”
I take his arm, and he escorts me to the front door of my building. I reach into my pocket and grab my keys, but they slip through the thick mittens I’m wearing.
He reaches down, grabs my keys, and hands them back to me. “Here you go.”
I can’t help it, I beam up at him. “Did you pop right out of a fairy tale? You’re like my knight in shining armor tonight.” I run my hand up the arm of his overcoat. “Or rather, my knight in woolen armor.”
“It’s a wool-cashmere blend, actually.” He grins.
I giggle. “Silly me.” I turn toward my door and place the key in the lock. “Well, good night. Thank you so much for an unexpectedly lovely evening.”
He looks at me, his beautiful eyes smoldering, and for a moment, I think—I hope—he’s going to kiss me.
Instead, he places a hand over mine. “Alissa, I want to see you again.”
I blink. “What did you have in mind?”
He smiles. “I belong to an exclusive club downtown. An underground speakeasy. I’d love to take you there for a drink, maybe a dance or two.”
“Drinks and dancing?” I ask. “I haven’t been to a club like that since I was in college.”
He holds up a hand. “This place isn’t like that. It’s not the type of place where people bump and grind to EDM while druggies shoot up in the corner. It’s very classy. The kind of place where people get dressed up. Live music, crafted cocktails. I think you’d like it.”
I’m not really one for dancing. And I don’t drink terribly often.
But this man—this generous, mysterious, and completely gorgeous man—has me leaning in. There’s something so utterly fascinating about him, and I want to know more.
“Uh…sure. I’d be delighted to join you for drinks, Maddox.”
He nods, his eyes bright. “Then it’s a date. Are you free tomorrow evening?”
I close my eyes, thinking over my work schedule. “I work until five tomorrow. But I could join you for the evening. It’ll be Friday, after all. I’m sure I’ll be ready for a drink.”
“Perfect. Meet me downtown around six. Randolph and State. Shouldn’t be too far from your hospital.”
“All right.”
“In the meantime”—he grabs my mittened hand and kisses it chastely—“have a wonderful evening, Alissa.”
Even through my mitten, I feel the warmth of his lips. It takes everything in me to not invite him up to my flat right now.
But Maddox seems to be the type who enjoys courting a woman, getting to know her before bedding her.
I look into his eyes. Such a magnificent shade of hazel, and even in the darkness of the Chicago winter’s night, they almost glow.