Robyn reached up and ran her fingers through her hair, checking for bumps. Maybe she’d slipped in the shower this morning and had been hallucinating her own personal Wonderland ever since. Except she’d worked very hard today—and if she dreamed about work, she was truly pathetic.

Still, this wasn’t her life. She didn’t dine at five-star establishments. She ate at chain restaurants with massive margarita menus. Guys she dated didn’t make reservations, let alone close down entire dining rooms for a private party. And she’d never tasted real champagne. This wasn’t a dream. It was a whole new world.

Curtis poured the champagne, and the tiniest of bubbles burst at the surface of the pale gold liquid. Champagne, a romantic restaurant, a day of feeling completely off-kilter. She was standing on the precipice and so much as a wink from him would push her over the edge.

“What’s happening here? You have been so weird today. Did you get abducted by aliens last night? Have some kind of personality reset procedure?” She took the glass from his outstretched hand, not sure if it was meant for her, or if she was supposed to set it at his date’s place. Or was she his date?

“How am I acting differently?”

“You showed up at my apartment before the sun like some kind of reverse booty call, where instead of having sex we carpool.”

He had the nerve to start laughing. And he had the best laugh, light and rich and smooth. And his eyes squinted up with little crinkles at the side. Whoa, girl, don’t get lost in him.

“We stopped for coffee and you ordered for me like we’re some married couple.”

“Anyone who knows you has witnessed your obsession with coffee milkshakes.”

And he had that smile that made her want to grab his face and— Gah. She had to focus. In spite of herself, her mouth curled in a grin. “Seriously, what’s going on? Is this some kind of practice date?”

His lips tilted in a smile. “Dating is for people who don’t know each other. We know each other quite well, don’t you think?”

She nodded in agreement, still perplexed. She knew him on paper, and in fantasies. Reality was another matter entirely. One he seemed to have no desire to help her out with.

She lifted her glass. “To the riverboat deal.”

“To gambling on a sure thing.” He clinked her glass and sipped his champagne, staring at her with hooded eyes.

The Billionaire’s Runaway Fiancée by Jenna Bayley-Burke
AMZ * BN * K * GP * iBooks

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