Escape for Valentine's: Beauty and the Billionaire / Her One and Only Valentine / The Girl Next Door

Автор

Caroline Anderson

Год написания книги

2019

<< 1 ... 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 ... 42 >>

На страницу:

Перейти

27 из 42

Настройки чтения

Размер шрифта

Высота строк

Поля

He paused for a moment, gazing at her in the streaming sunlight. “Actually, I am. But you’re not.”

Sinclair didn’t believe it for a second. Although it was nice of him to say so. As fantasies went, Hunter sure knew how to put on a good one.

“Have you called for a special opening of a hair salon?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know anything about hair salons in Paris. But I do know people who know people.”

“And they’ll do you favors.”

“They will.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m a nice guy.”

“That you are.”

Sinclair sat back, gazing around the room, at the ornate moldings, the carved ceiling, the marble bathroom, and the four-poster bed. “But the money must be frustrating. I mean, how can you tell if people like you or not?”

He shrugged. “How does anybody tell? They’re friendly. They don’t jeer at me. They laugh at my jokes.”

“But how can you tell it’s you and not the money?”

“You can tell.”

“I bet you can’t.”

“Most people are terrible liars.”

Sinclair pushed her hair behind her ears. “Not me. I’m a great liar.” She and Kristy had pulled the wool over her parents’ eyes on numerous occasions.

“Yeah?” asked Hunter, his disbelief showing.

“Yeah,” she affirmed with a decisive nod.

He put down the pastry and dusted the sugar off his hands with a nearby linen napkin. “Okay. Go ahead. Tell me a good lie.”

Like she’d fall for that. “You’d already know it’s a lie.”

“Then tell me something that may or may not be a lie, and I’ll tell you if it’s the truth.”

“Oh … kay.” Sinclair thought about it. After a minute, she sat forward, warming to the game. “That morning at the Manchester mansion, I stole something from your room.”

Hunter sat back in apparent surprise. “What did you steal?”

“Is it a lie or not?”

He peered at her expression. “You’re telling me you’re a liar and a thief?”

She shook her head. “I’m either a liar or a thief. If I’m lying about being a thief, then I’m only a liar. But if I’m telling the truth about being a thief, I’m only a thief.”

His eyes squinted down.

“Come on,” she coaxed. “Which is it?”

“You’re a liar,” he said. “You didn’t steal anything from my bedroom.”

“You sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“You got me,” she admitted.

“Okay. Now it’s my turn.” He folded the napkin and set it aside. “I once wrestled an alligator.”

“A real alligator?”

He nodded.

She was intrigued. Who wouldn’t be? But she wasn’t sold, yet. “Where?”

“A little town in Louisiana.”

“Was it a trained alligator? Like in a zoo or something?”

“Nope. Out there in the bayou.”

“It must have been pretty small.”

“I didn’t measure it or anything, but Jack guessed it was about six feet long.”

“Jack was there, too?”

Hunter nodded.

Sinclair held out her hand. “Your phone.”

“What?”

“I’m calling Jack.”

“Oh, no, you’re not.”

“Oh, yes, I am.” She wiggled her fingers.

Hunter shrugged and handed her the phone.

“You’re so lying,” she said. “Which speed dial?”