The next morning, I was relieved to be back home and back on schedule. I got ready to visit the cafe closest to the office. It wasn’t just convenience, even though that was a significant factor. But the pastries were out of this world. Much to my Mother’s dismay, I was born with a healthy metabolism. I barely worked out and didn’t get the male pooch no matter what I ate.

Remembering the night before at the pub, the fish and chips had been ace. And the conversation between Maddox and me had smoothed over any ruffled feathers. He didn’t pry into the business with my father, and I was able to enjoy the time spent with my friend outside the office.

He was still flying high about landing his big clients, and I wasn’t going to ruin his fun. His dating life was more exciting than mine, and we’d spent most of the time talking about one girl he wanted to take out over the weekend. When he offered to hook me up with one of her friends, I said I’d consider it. Which was enough to keep him from pushing.

I made it to the café early enough that the line was only several people deep. It was enough of a wait for me to answer a few emails. I was only one person away from ordering when someone cleared her throat behind me. Loudly, if I might say so.

I turned around and came face to face with the reporter. “Not you again.”

She blinked her thick lashes with surprise. “Oh, Mr. Walters, I thought that was you.”

“You’re going with that?” I asked. “Like you didn’t follow me here?”

She frowned. “Me? Follow you?”

“It seems to be your specialty,” I said. “My answer is still the same.”

“I know,” she said. “But I have another proposition for you.”

Nothing she could say would change my mind about giving her an interview. “What’s that?”

She scooted ahead of me in line. She wasn’t doing herself a favor by getting between me and breakfast. “Let me pay for your coffee or whatever you want. I just want to sit and talk with you for a few minutes. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

If she had done her research, she would know that I was worth billions, and I didn’t need anyone to buy my coffee. But she was persistent. An idea formed, and I smiled at her.

She thought it was me agreeing, and I didn’t let her onto my plan.

“Okay,” I said. “You can pay for my breakfast.”

“Great!” she said and hurried up to the counter. I ordered first, and she ordered the same thing. It was so apparent that she was a fish out of water.

Once the barista handed over the bag with my pastry—a chocolate croissant—I took my coffee and headed for the door.

“Wait!” Sophia said, struggling to pull out the right number of bills and coins to pay for the food. “You said—”

“I said I’d let you pay,” I said, lifting my coffee cup and tipping it in her direction. “Cheers.”

Her slack-jawed expression was priceless as I let the door close behind me. She hadn’t been close to paying the bill yet, and I hoped that she charged it to her work account. Tricking her into using her money might have made me feel bad, but she had brought it upon herself.

As a reporter, she should have realized what I had actually said, versus what she wanted to hear.

Even though I’d just met her, her face filled my mind all the way to the office. Her look of confusion brought a smile to my lips. It was a dirty trick, which would probably fuel her into stalking me some more. I wasn’t sure if it was the coffee or the anticipation of breakfast, but if I did see her again, I wouldn’t mind so much.

* * *

“You look awful chipper this morning,” Maddox said as I stopped by his office on the way to mine.

I bit into my chocolate croissant, not realizing that I had been smiling. “This is so good.”

Maddox sat back in his chair, reaching his hands up before clasping them together behind his head. “No. That’s not it, mate. There’s something else.”

I took another bite, drawing out the suspense. Even though Sophia annoyed me to no end, I enjoyed playing with her. It was a fun game, even if I clearly had the upper hand.

“That reporter followed me to the cafe this morning,” I said.

“Why didn’t you get me anything?” he asked with a fake pout.

“Listen to my story, and I’ll tell you,” I said before rehashing the short conversation with Sophia.

Maddox clicked his tongue. “That’s harsh, mate. You left her to foot the bill?”

“She’ll make her company pay for it,” I said. “Besides, I had to get her off my back. Reporters are like leeches. Once they find the opportunity, they cling on until they suck you dry.”

“I wouldn’t mind some of that from her,” Maddox said.

I rolled my eyes. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

Maddox jumped up from his chair. “Wait up.”

I allowed him to follow me into my office. I’d already dedicated way too much time to Sophia that morning. It was time for work.

“So after all that, you’re not going to give her the interview?”

“Why should I?” I asked. “I know she wants to know about—” I stopped.

“About what?” Maddox asked, crossing his arms.

“Every reporter wants to know about my personal life,” I said, not wanting to get into the shit with my family. Maddox knew that I was in line for the throne, but he didn’t know how short that line was. “That’s the only reason someone would cross international lines to talk to me.”

Maddox’s gaze flicked to the ceiling as if he doubted what I’d said. Did he think an American came across the pond to talk about our business? Sure, it was successful, but we had given Skype interviews before with reporters all over the world.

Sophia was here for me, plain and simple.

“She’s been trying so hard, though,” Maddox said. “It’s a little sad.”

“Well, she’s going to be the one crying, not me.”

“I’ll let you get to it,” he said and walked out.

His entire demeanor had changed since I gave up Sophia’s plan. I felt a little bad for him, not understanding why she’d been to our company, but I hoped that would deter him from allowing her in again.

Even though I’d duped her into thinking she had the interview, I doubted it was the last time I’d see Sophia Holmes.

* * *

I stayed until the sun nearly set on the horizon. Every time I stopped, Sophia’s face popped into my mind. What was it about that annoying woman? Sure, she was gorgeous, but she was also a vessel for her newspaper to get a story about me.

Every time I caught myself thinking about her, I started a new project or set of emails. Before I knew it, it was almost seven at night.

I had no plans with Maddox, or anyone for that matter, so I never felt as if I had to go home at a certain time. Which was why I liked to stay in the office as much as I could. It made the sting of loneliness a little less sharp.

Closing up my office for the night, I walked down the empty hallways. The automatic lights came on as I tripped the sensors. Everyone was gone for the night, and for some reason, that made me feel lonelier than ever.

I had a huge house to go to, but no one in it was waiting for me. I’d traded relationships for success. At the same time, I had no other option. Any relationship I had was doomed from the start. Mother wouldn’t allow a union between me and anyone she hadn’t chosen herself.

There was no point in me dating anyone and possibly hurting them or myself. Besides, from what Maddox told me, women these days needed much more attention than what I’d be able to give. My hours were all over the place, as I was a slave to the business. And if I were honest with myself, I was a slave to my family, too. Father popping into my office and whisking me away earlier that week wasn’t the first or last time. Any plans I might have had for New Year’s would have been dashed within moments, leaving whoever I might have been dating alone for the night.

It was better this way.

Stepping out into the lobby, the lights were still on. I stopped in my tracks, realizing I wasn’t alone at all.

“Ms. Holmes,” I said without looking at her.

She stood up from the chair, her bag slung over her shoulder as if she had been expecting me. “That was a dirty trick you pulled on me this morning.”

I couldn’t help smirking. “It was the only way to get rid of you. Or so I thought.”

“I won’t fall for it again,” she said, crossing the space to get to me.

“I won’t be giving you an interview,” I said. “You’ve wasted your day.”

“Not at all,” she said. “I questioned several of your employees about you.”

I cut a look at her. “What did they say?”

She buttoned her jacket, wearing a grin on her pink lips. “All good things, of course. But at least it gave me some info about your character.”

I lifted my chin, unsure of where she was going with this. And I wrestled to keep my gaze off her pretty lips.

“You’re stubborn,” she said flatly. “I get it. I tell you what, I’ll give up asking to get this interview with you.”

“You’ve sat here all day just to tell me that in person?” I asked.

She licked her lips. “What I’m trying to tell you is that I give up asking. But you will see me everywhere you go until you give in. You see, Mr. Walters, you might be stubborn, but I like a good competition. And I’m going to win this one.”

I had a feeling she was bluffing, but there was a shred of guilt in the back of my mind. I’d already seen what she was capable of doing in the two days I’d known her. She’d weaseled her way into my building and into my life. Would she go further? How far would she dig her spiked heels into my life before they were in too deep?

I had no idea what the budget for her company was, but she seemed determined to see this through to the end, either way.

I hated to give in, but I wasn’t about to have my life constantly interrupted by an interview. At least if I picked the location and the questions, I could control the situation instead of her bothering my employees and drilling her way into my life.

I wanted her to go, and I was the only person who could make that happen.

“Fine,” I said. “If we go out to dinner tomorrow night, will you stop following me?”

She pursed her lips. “You have to answer my questions.”

“I will decide which questions I want to answer,” I said.

She chewed that over for a minute until I checked my watch. I wanted to get home and couldn’t wait all night for the answer.

“Okay,” she said.

“Alright,” I said. “I’ll ask my secretary to send you the information tomorrow.”

“I will call first thing to make sure,” she said.

“No doubt you will,” I said. “Goodnight, Ms. Holmes.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Walters.”

“You know how to find your way to your hotel?” I asked, immediately regretting it. She’d been a nuisance since the moment she stepped into my building. Why did I care where she slept?

“I got here, didn’t I?”

She certainly did. As I stepped out of the building, I grinned and was unable to stop for some time.