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

Not as long as there weren’t any storms. And as far as storms went, he had everything crossed, tightly. As Cassie had said, she didn’t give much for his chances if he had to take refuge in the Chateau, but then torrential rain in August was not that common.
    ‘The Fifty Shades gig was awesome, thanks.’ Millie, smiled radiantly at him, and blew all thoughts of rain from his mind. ‘The whole weekend went down really well. We managed to release the hunky bouncer the bride handcuffed herself to, and the head bridesmaid wasn’t supposed to show off her pasties on the dance-floor, but otherwise it was all good.’
    ‘Pasties?’
    ‘Stick on nipple covers. All the guests were given a pair, as part of the package, except they weren’t meant to be worn out. These ones had rhinestones, and pink tassels, and I’m sure the clubbers of Nottingham appreciated them.’
    Ed felt his eyes widen, as he caught a flash of her wicked smile. If she was winding him up it was working. Big time.
    Since he arrived here alone five days ago, he’d plagued himself, going over and over what had made him ask her to come to join him. He’d expended mega amounts of energy, pretending to Cassie that it been a pre-meditated part of his challenge strategy, but he knew that was all bull. Because one glimpse of the vulnerable curve of Millie’s neck in the wine bar last week, the big bang from that kiss in the water still reverberating round his head, and the invitation had come tumbling out, in one uncontrolled, spontaneous, ill-considered gush. In the end he’d rationalised it as his honed instinct for milking every chance to the max. But, no denying, it had shaken him. So having succumbed to one non-strategic impulse in the wine bar, it became doubly important to perfect his approach for the remainder of the challenge.
    He’d known from day one that Millie was jumpy. It hadn’t taken a brain-surgeon to work that one out. All his talk of no-strings sex was wishful thinking, completely inappropriate for anyone as fragile as her. For that, on reflection, was what he’d decided she was. Fragile and fearful.
    Damage limitation was the name of the game now. If she took fright and fled she’d send the whole darned operation down the pan. He’d reached Date 7 of a ten part challenge here, and the closer to the end he got, the more there was at stake, and the more careful he needed to be. He needed low risk here, and the low risk strategy now was to back right off, and make sure there was no physical contact before their last date, whatever the temptation. That was the only way to be sure he’d nurse her through to the end.
    But if that last sizzling smile was anything to go by, he was in for a hard time.
    Millie appeared to have come off the plane with a whole load more sass, as if she’d left a hefty slice of reticence back home. He braced himself for one long weekend of temptation, which he would definitely be resisting, because given the size of her travel bag, she couldn’t possibly have brought much more with her than nipple tassels.
    He inclined his head towards her bag in the back seat. ‘You’re traveling light.’
    ‘Yep, always do. It’s easier in economy if you only have hand baggage, though you’d be surprised how many floaty dresses one determined packer can fit in a case like that.’
    And for a minute there she sounded like she knew another side of travel.
    He gave a throaty guffaw. ‘Usually on a private jet are we?’
    She didn’t reply, but the unexpected pink flush he caught invading her cheeks as she turned her head away from him made him uneasy. But only for an instant.
    ‘So, you’re okay with camping? I’ve juggled the budget. What I saved on my hotel went towards your flight.’ Feeling the need, for Cassie’s sake, to make it clear. ‘Special dispensation for the Chief Firework Organiser, we get to pitch the tent in the grounds of the village Chateau.’
    ‘That’s cool! Camping’s good, and it kind of