Free How to Win a Guy in 10 Dates by Jane Linfoot

later. I’ll pick you up at seven.’
    And for the first time he was sensing that the way forward may not be as simple as he’d planned.
    ***
    ‘So what kind of a dessert girl are you? Let me guess?’
    They were in a wine bar in town, the sort with artfully mismatched chairs, a chalk-board on the wall, and a clientele who looked effortlessly perfect, even though Millie suspected they’d spent a long time getting that way.
    Ed wagged the desert menu at Millie, and narrowed his eyes in a way she wished he wouldn’t, simply for the sake of her rapidly descending stomach.
    ‘You definitely won’t choose sticky toffee pudding, and something tells me it won’t be the crumble and custard either, even though it is rhubarb.’
    Yet again, she’d relented, caved, and here she was, melting under his gaze, hanging onto every chocolatey syllable, with her heart squishing as she noticed his broad tanned fingers slipping on the back of the menu card. Glory, she could fall here. But she was damned determined she wasn’t going to.
    ‘And I know it won’t be the sundae, even though whipped cream might have been your thing.’ He tapped his thumb nail on his almost perfect teeth. ‘I’d have asked you for a full meal, but I knew you wouldn’t come. Your hair looks nice up, by the way.’
    Blushing at his compliment was not the best idea either, especially when she’d put in such an effort to look sophisticated, to counteract him catching her in her playsuit earlier. And damn, for how well he read her, after knowing her such a short time. Disgustingly perceptive. No way would she be here if he’d asked her to commit to more than dessert.
    ‘Got it!’ His eyes crinkled into a triumphant grin, as he tossed the card on the table. ‘You’ll go for the crème brûlée!’
    ‘Always do.’ She spun him her lightest smile. ‘My grandmother is French.’ As if that explained anything. At least it filled the acres of silence left by her shock at his accuracy. She picked up the menu, screwing her face up as she pondered. ‘I’m going to guess you’ll have the ginger tart, to match your eyes.’
    Had she just said that? About his eyes? Double damn.
    ‘Didn’t know you’d noticed, but as it happens I will go with the ginger. I’ll order now.’
    Millie watched him sidle up to the bar, took a second to admire the muscular thrust of his butt in his pale grey chinos, then watched the barmaid swoon ever so slightly as she took his order. Not her fault. That was how Ed Mitchum affected women.
    And she, Millie Brown was personally turning him down. Flat.
    One day, down the line, she’d be proud of herself for this.
    And then he was back, with his non-stop interrogation. ‘French grandmother, eh? So what about the rest of your family?’
    Nice diversion, even if she didn’t discuss her family, especially not with him.
    ‘Parents, two sisters, I’d see them more if I wasn’t so busy.’ Pointless telling him she was a rebel middle child, how she couldn’t stay in touch because she couldn’t bear to see her sister. Nor any need to give him any inkling of the trouble she’d caused, how she didn’t want to see them, how hard she was trying to do things on her own.
    ‘More of your independence, huh? Talking of which, have you thought any more about my too-good-to-miss no-strings offer?’
    So he’d picked it up anyway, and turned it straight around, taken it somewhere even more uncomfortable. Nice one, Ed.
    ‘No, and no.’ And lying on both counts, given that she’d hardly stopped thinking of no-strings sex with him, even if she wasn’t going to take him up on it. Not even with the promise of it being temporary, with a fast finish.
    ‘That’s a shame. Still, your loss.’
    And his grin the width of the wine bar, to show, she guessed, that he didn’t give a fig.
    And then their desserts arrived, and she had to bear watching him carefully pouring a smooth stream of cream onto his plate. Then, try to peel her eyes away from