“Take Diana instead,” Lizzie blurts.
My head whips up at Lizzie’s words, my eyebrows rising so high I swear they’re about to fly off my face and hit the ceiling.
“Look at her,” Lizzie says. “She’s ready. It would be a shame to let a dress like that go to waste.”
If ever a silence has been loud, it’s this one. It’s ringing in my ears as Rafe’s gaze shifts between me and his daughter, brow creasing as though he’s calculating something. I suspect he wants to reprimand Lizzie for putting him in this awkward situation.
“Do you like the opera?” he asks me.
“I-I…” Can’t formulate a sentence. The last thing I need is an evening in his company when he’s looking so gorgeous and sophisticated, and my boobs are all plumped up and ripe for picking.
Holy crap.
A night at the opera with Rafe Bastion. So much for my ‘no repeats’ rule. This is the first date of all first dates.
I absolutely cannot go.
“Is that a yes?” he asks, and his stern tone demands a quick answer with no allowance for deliberation. It’s intimidating, but my heart flutters regardless. I have no idea how anyone could work for this man without melting into a puddle every time he opens his mouth.
“I couldn’t step in like that.” I put down my glass and hold my hands up like I’m admitting I’m guilty ofsomething.
A slight smile touches his lips, as if my awkward surprise amuses him. He might even think it’s endearing.
I rode your face, mister.
I’m not cute.
“Isn’t there someone else you’d rather take?” I say quickly.
Serious again, he glances at the clock on the wall. “Given it starts in half an hour, no. It’s you or no one.”
The echo of his words from the night at Delirium—it’s me or no one—slides beneath my skin, and before I can stop it, my answer pops out. “Okay. I’d love to.”
Lizzie grins at me, wiping her brow and mouthing ‘thank you’ as if I’ve done her a huge favour.
She’ll probably never grin at me again if she ever finds out what I’ve already done.
“Give me five minutes,” Rafe says, before walking off and granting me an extremely unhelpful view of his arse, all pert and tempting in his suit trousers.
16
RAFE
I’ve barely left the room when footsteps follow me.
“Dad,” Lizzie stage-whispers. “Are you angry?”
I turn, jaw clenched, and find my daughter staring at me, her hands clasped before her, looking much younger than her eighteen years. “I’m disappointed that you forgot.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“And you shouldn’t have put me in that position in front of your friend.”
Lizzie’s mouth downturns, and her upper body slumps. “Diana’s great. You’ll probably have more fun with her than you would with me.”
I scratch my eyebrow, glancing away from my daughter. Henry’s still pestering me to take Melanie Castow out to win her over. He’s convinced that my intervention would get us the agency. And now here’s Lizzie, begging me to take her friend to the opera.
I don’t want to take Melanie Castow out. And I don’t want to take Diana out either. I don’t.