This is how he does it.
This is how he gets women to sleep with him with no strings attached. He’s so honest and heartfelt, you want to slip straight into being one of his friends with benefits… because he assures you that there is no chance of getting hurt.
These women all know what they are signing up for and they don’t care.
And right at this moment, I would give my right arm for him to take me home for some of his so-called intimate relations. I get a vision of the all the images of him with women from Google, and I cringe. Being one of those stupid girls is the last thing I need.
Stop it.
Don’t fall for this crap.
He’s a player …and his game is strong.
I need to change the subject. “What do you do for work, Spencer?”
“Spence,” he corrects me.
“Spence.” I smile around my mouthful of food.
“I am an architect and I own a steel manufacturing company.”
I frown as I chew. “How do those two things merge together?”
“I used to design skyscrapers. In the designing process I found a niche in the market that wasn’t being met, so I designed a new form of steel. I now ship to most first-world countries, and I have around four hundred staff working for me.”
I smile as I watch him become all animated. He’s proud of himself. I raise my glass to him and he clinks it with his. “Well done.” I smile. “That’s amazing.”
“Thank you. It’s been hard work to get where I am. What do you do for work?” he asks.
“I studied law and commerce, and then I went to work for a cause my mother loved dearly. I’ve been there ever since.”
“You don’t use your degree?”
“No, unfortunately not.” I smile. “One day, hopefully, it will come in use. I have this wild idea that may come to fruition when the time is right.”
He smiles and pats the corners of his mouth with his serviette.
“And your family? Tell me about them,” I ask.
“I have a sister and a brother. My sister is a stay at home mother now, my brother a surgeon. My mother lives near London. I see them all the time.”
“And your father?”
“Is a piece of shit who I wouldn’t spit on,” he answers coolly. “I legally changed my name to Jones on my thirteenth birthday… my mother’s name.”
I sit back, surprised at his venom. “You don’t get on?”
“I hate him with a passion.” He sips his drink. “Next subject, please.”
“Oh.” I sip my wine, flustered by his hatred of his own father. I wonder what that’s about? I’ve never known anyone who despises their father.
“Tell me about your family,” he says, obviously desperate to change the subject.
“Well, I live on my father’s estate in my own house. ”
He smiles softly as he listens and continues to sip his wine.
“I have two brothers. Edward has a heart of gold but is so worried about my safety that it’s almost unbearable. Then I have a brother, William, who lives in Switzerland with his wife and baby.”
“William doesn’t work with your father?”
“No, Edward and he don’t get on. Edward hates William’s wife.”
“Oh.” He frowns. “And your mother?”
My heart drops, and before I am able to put on my brave face, my eyes fill with tears. “My mother was killed in a car accident five years ago.”
His face falls.
“I miss her dearly.”
He reaches over the table and takes my hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” I squeeze his hand, a silent thank you for being kind.
“Good Lord,” he mutters almost to himself as he sits back in his seat. “I came here to try and woo you, and all I have done is make you talk about morbid things and told you I am a womanising cad who can’t be trusted. My A game is most definitely slipping.”
I chuckle and pick up my wine. “A very sweet cad, though.”
Our eyes lock again, and the air swirls between us. He smiles softly. “You are more beautiful than I remembered, Charlotte. I’m glad I came.”
“So am I,” I breathe.
We eat our dinner and enjoy a dessert. I find myself genuinely surprised at how easily we get along. He’s funny, witty, and not at all like I imagined.
“Sir, just to let you know the bar is closing soon. Would you like anything else?” the waiter asks.
Spencer and I look up in surprise. Where has the night gone? It feels like we just got here.
“No, we’ll be leaving soon,” Spencer answers.
We finish our drinks, and he pays the bill. Then he takes my hand as we walk out onto the road. I see Wyatt in the car and guilt suddenly fills me. I’ve never made him wait for me while I had a date before.
At least my father and Edward are away in London at a work function tonight and aren’t home.
“Where is your house?” Spencer asks as we walk up the road. He presses a button on his keys and the headlights to a sporty looking black Maserati light up.
“Just out of town.” I smile as we arrive at the extremely low vehicle. “This is your car?”
“Yep.” He smiles cheekily.
“I should have known that you would own a poser car.”
He flashes me one of those beautiful smiles and opens my car door. I feel myself melt.
“Yeah, because the Bentley you drive around in is so understated,” he hits back dryly.
I giggle as I slide into my seat. “That’s not my car, it’s my father’s.”
Spencer starts the car and pulls out onto the road.
“What do you drive then?” he asks with interest.
I bite my bottom lip and hesitate.
He casts a quick glance my way. “Your security guard drives you around all the time in that black Mercedes wagon, doesn’t he?”
I shrug, embarrassed. “Sort of.”
He frowns and bites his thumbnail as he thinks, his eyes stay fixed on the road. “How do you stand it?”
“What?”
“The lack of freedom and their control.”
I frown at him. “What do you mean?”
“They know where you are every minute of every day. How do you stand it? Don’t you feel suffocated and just want to break free?”
My heart sinks. He’s the first person who’s ever got it. “More than you know.” I sigh sadly.
He looks over at me and grins mischievously.
“What?” I smirk.
“Maybe you should run away with me and join the bad girl club.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I can teach you how to have fun in the dirtiest way possible.”
I chuckle as I look out the window. If only he knew how tempting that offer is. “I’m sure you could, Mr Mischief.”
He laughs and puts his hand on my thigh, like he’s done it a thousand times before.
This is the weirdest thing. He’s not getting romantic on me, he’s not trying to be perfect or pretend to be something he’s not, and it’s working. Second by second, I’m feeling more comfortable with him. All this honesty has him sliding right in under my skin.
God, he plays a good game.
“This is it, up here on the left,” I tell him.
We get to the large stone gates outside, and he glances over at me. “What’s the code?”
My eyes flicker nervously to Wyatt in the car behind us. I’m not supposed to give anyone the code to get in. “Eleven, zero, five,” I blurt out. I look at Wyatt through the passenger wing mirror and see he is getting annoyed.
Spencer pushes the code in and drives down the driveway. “This is my house here,” I say.
He parks the car and looks over at me as Wyatt’s headlights pull in closer behind us.
Spencer watches him in the rearview mirror. “This guy is pissing me off,” he mutters almost to himself, and then he opens his door. “Come on.”
I stare at him, confused. Does he think he’s coming in?
“I’m walking you to the door, Charlotte.” He rolls his eyes. “Fucking relax.”
“Oh.” I smile feeling stupid, and I get out of the car to follow him up the six stairs to the porch and my front door.
“Can I come in… for a coffee?” he asks.
I stare up at him as we stand in the darkness. “We have nothing in common, Spencer.”
“Spence,” he corrects me.
“We have nothing in common, Spence.”
He smiles down at me. “I don’t care.” He leans forward as if he’s going to kiss me, and I step back.
“See?” I snap.
“See what?” He frowns.
“This is why you can’t come in.”