I seized on that explanation. “Yes. Milo. He’s a great kid. A total hypochondriac, but fun.”
“I may understand that better than you think.” I waited for him to explain. Was he a hypochondriac? Knew someone else who was? But instead he asked, “Is this your first time in Aspen?”
“Yes!” It was kind of a relief to have something that felt so nonconfrontational and possibly not threatening to my secret identity.
“It’s the first time for me, too. Perhaps we could help each other explore.”
That put all kinds of inappropriate images in my head as I imagined exploring him. I cleared my throat. I couldn’t commit to spending any kind of time with him when I was here for a job. I pulled out one of my tried-and-true maneuvers and focused the conversation back on him so that he’d forget all about me. “Are you staying at the Royal Paramount as well?”
His expression let me know that he recognized my subject change, but thankfully he let it slide. A part of me was impressed that he seemed to pick up so easily on what I was doing. “Yes. I needed a place to hide, and an old chum of mine from Oxford”—he put a big emphasis on the word, apparently to mess with me—“recommended we join him here.”
“Hiding? From what?” Or who?
“The paparazzi. This and that.” He waved his hand as if it were unimportant, but there was so much he wasn’t saying.
I both did and didn’t want to know what it was. “I guess we all have secrets.” Some worse than others.
“Indeed?” he asked.
“And how’s that hiding thing working out for you?”
“Until today? Very well.”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
“I know.” He held my gaze for a moment and I saw something there I didn’t recognize. I didn’t like that he wasn’t easy for me to read. “My mate from Oxford is why I’m here tonight. His wife’s involved with this charity and they asked me to come. I had been really regretting it until I met you.”
My breath caught and this time there was no mistaking his implication. The way he caressed the last few words he said had me totally enthralled, wondering what he would say next.
Definitely dangerous. Alice or no Alice, this night needed to come to an end. I wasn’t strong enough to resist this guy forever and I had a very serious commitment over the next few months and would not have the time to be hanging out with a bored earl.
Because after my most recent “relationship,” I had promised myself that going forward I was only going to date guys where there could be something more. Someone I could have an actual future with. And since that wasn’t the case here, it seemed pointless.
Not to mention that much like the real Cinderella, this prince had no idea I was basically a servant, and this would all go away the second he found out. I was already hard-core crushing on this guy—I didn’t need to add painful emotions when he inevitably left. I had to be responsible and mature. “Your friends are probably wondering where you are. You should get back to them. I’ll just call my driver and have him meet me out front. It was really nice to meet you.”
I stood up and he shot out of his seat so quickly we almost slammed into each other. There was this moment that hung heavy between us, where his breath was mine and I was so aware of every inch of him that I couldn’t process anything beyond his nearness. My limbs felt thick and heavy and my stomach tightened in anticipation. My mouth tingled with want.
I stepped around the coffee table to put an object between us because of how tempted I was to fuse my lips against his.
If I’d doubted whether I could be honestly attracted to a nice guy before, well, that matter had been thoroughly settled. I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath.
“What about a drink? With me?” he asked, and there was a tinge of desperation in his voice that I related to all too well.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I told him. I got out my phone and the driver’s card and sent a text. He responded immediately, saying he’d be here in ten minutes. “My driver’s on his way. So, good night then.”
“Wait, that’s it?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?” Surely he’d been turned down at some point in his life. And I hadn’t been flirting, right? Definitely bantering, but that was just the polite thing to do. I wasn’t putting out any “ask me on a date” vibes, was I? Although . . . I had felt conflicted and confused by his prettiness and he might have picked up on it, but I was shutting things down now. Nothing good could come from this. We had our fun, and now it was time to go our separate ways. “I don’t think tonight went the way you thought it did.”
Griffin looked thoroughly dumbfounded. “You’re saying I didn’t win you over with my wit and dashing good looks?”
Completely, but this wasn’t what I was in Aspen for. “Sorry.” Lie, huge lie, but it felt necessary. Because it wouldn’t take much from him to get me to change my mind.
“And you know who I am? Vulgar as it is to mention, I do have money. An appalling amount.”
He really was pulling out all the stops here, and there was too much of my mom in me not to be curious about his financial background, whether or not I wanted to be. I shook my head hard, willing myself to stop going down that road.
“It’s not about that.”
“So the title doesn’t sway you.” Again, he acted like this was a completely new experience for him. “I realize I’m reacting badly here. But this has never happened to me before.”
I kind of wanted to hug him. But you know, only from a human viewpoint of wanting to be compassionate to another human being. Not because I wanted to feel all those strong muscles of his pressed against me and . . .
Clearing my throat I said, “There’s a first time for everything.”
But apparently accepting defeat gracefully wasn’t Griffin’s strong point. “And I wasn’t charming? Prince-level charming?” He kept going, like there was one right thing he could say that would change everything.
“I thought you weren’t a prince.”
“No, but I was raised with them. Also, I have been, as you Americans say, giving you my A game.”
“Yes, I noticed, and it’s been quite the struggle to keep my clothes on.” I’d discovered that there was a good way of being honest without other people realizing it. Like now, where I said what I was actually feeling but did it in a sarcastic tone so as to throw them off the scent. “Look, Griffin, I know people say this all the time and don’t mean it, but this time it really is me and my current situation. There’s nothing wrong with you. Unfortunately, there isn’t anything you can say to change things. You won’t be able to talk your way out of it.”
“To be fair, I have talked my way out of many a situation.”
I completely believed him, considering how much I wanted to agree to go out with him.
“But,” he continued, “if that is how you feel, then I understand.” He paused for a beat and then said, “So you’re saying that in some alternate dimension you might have fallen for me?”
Uh, like a piano falling on a cartoon character’s head. “There’s a distinct possibility.”