How About Seven? ✔

15. Nemesis

"My father approves, I take it?"

A delicately raised eyebrow. "But of course. He did say he would marry you off to the first man that asks for your hand."

My incredulity jumped up several degrees. "You asked for my hand?"

"Not quite. More to......I made a statement."

My eyes twitched. "An offer, you mean."

Jasper inclined his head just the teensiest bit. "An offer," he confirmed. "An offer he could not resist."

The two of us were sitting in a very expensive, very classy French haute-cuisine restaurant. I was having blanquette de veau and a glass of red Bordeaux, while Jasper had paused from eating his boudin noir aux pommes and was currently swirling his glass of wine, also red Bordeaux.

......who am I kidding? I have no idea what those names mean either. I'm just reading what's on the receipt.

After dropping that bombshell and rendering the five of us gawping in astonishment, Jasper had walked over to me. A casual look at Kaylan had him pulling back his arm from my waist immediately. There were some things even bad boy could not stand up against.

Jasper didn't say anything, but had merely extended his hand. And it didn't matter what he wanted, when it came to Jasper you had best come quietly. So I had taken his hand and followed him out of the cafeteria.

He led me right through the hallways and we were only stopped once, at the school gate. Apparently when Jasper first entered the guard had been on toilet break. Now he was back and upon seeing us, launched into the usual where is your pass, a student cannot leave school grounds without signed authorization and et cetera et cetera. Jasper had listened to him rant calmly, before replying in fluent and collected Spanish. The guard paled visibly and scrambled to open the gates. I didn't fail to notice that his fingers were shaking.

One look and I easily spied his car parked at the opposite side of the street. It was a silver grey Porsche, a Spyder I think. I wasn't sure. One of those fancy expensive cars you saw in catalogues, that deserve nothing less than a full, single-page ad. He opened the side door for me in true gentlemanly fashion and bid me to enter. The hum of the engine was a quiet purr as we sped off.

"What did you tell the guard?" I had asked in the car.

The edges of his lips curved the slightest fraction upwards. "The usual."

I had a pretty good idea what that meant.

Now in the restaurant, I watched as he dug into his lunch with calm efficiency. He glanced at my untouched plate and said, "I would have thought you would be more appreciative. Surely this beats your cafeteria meals?"

"Oh it does. I just felt like wasting your money," I replied sweetly. 

He looked up and a smile fluttered near his lips, lazy. "It can't be wasting money if it's on you......sweetheart."

I stared. Did he just - 

"Is that not what engaged couples do?" he asked quizzically. "Call each other by nicknames?" A glint came into his eye. "Or do you prefer tigress?"

My fingers clenched around my fork. Stop tarnishing his memory, you bastards.

He laughed, soft. "Fear not. I know your aversion to that word. In fact, I do not wish to engage in any form of couple activities with you - privately of course. I'm afraid in public we still do need to put on a show."

I barked a laugh. "We haven't even gone on our first date and you're already jumping the gun?"

"Are we not on a date now?"