Law #1: Never Bet on Love: A Sweet Billionaire Love Story (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (the beginning after the end novel read .TXT) 📗

gift can’t come with no strings attached. And I don’t want to be bought by anyone. Not even by a man as handsome as Nathan.

As I touch his skin, a strange current buzzes through my arm, similar to the one I get when I plug my phone into Abuelita’s badly kept kitchen plug. Only the sizzles are way more delicate and pleasant.

Nathan sighs and lowers his hand. He slips the diamonds back into his pocket with a nonchalant movement.

“Don’t you want to put them into a box or wrap them into a napkin at least? You know, for protection?” I eye his slacks pocket.

“What for? You don’t want them, right?”

“No, I don’t. No forgiveness should cost that much.”

“It’s not much for me,” he snaps back. “I thought they would please you. Obviously I was wrong. Again.” His voice carries a hurt edge, as if my refusal is truly bothering him.

No, Eva, stop.

Indeed, I need to stop before my thoughts slide off track and take me to fantasyland where the wisdom my mother engrained in my mind doesn’t have any power. Instead, I need to focus on sending Nathan away. It’s already a miracle Juan hasn’t interrupted us yet. The chance to kick the ball for a few minutes undisturbed must have overpowered his curiosity. But sooner or later he’ll be back to snoop around.

I clear my throat. “Is that all you wanted to tell me, Nathan? Because if it is, we’re good. Your apology is accepted.”

Nathan cocks his head to the side. “Yes, my main motive was to apologize for my behavior.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Are you absolutely sure you aren’t mad at me anymore?”

His kind insistence is so unexpected, and his tone so tinglingly warm, that I can’t help but wonder where he left his enigmatic “I love to negotiate” persona. Does he have a twin brother, too? Or perhaps a clone? That would certainly explain the change in his manners. Because the Nathan in front of me seems to have little in common with the broody, calculating billionaire I met last night. Today he doesn’t seem to be playing a game.

Which one is his true self?

To hide my bewilderment, I wave nonchalantly. “No, I’m not. For the record, I was never really mad at you. I just didn’t like your proposal or the cocky way you presented it to me. In any case, it was nice of you to make all this effort just to apologize. The diamonds…well, those were a little…mhmm…extravagant.”

Nathan gives me a true boyish smile, and I can’t help but think that I like this new Nathan far more. “Hey, but they worked, right?” he says. “Alfonso wouldn’t have given me your address if I just plainly asked him.”

He probably would if you handed him twenty bucks. A deal way cheaper than purchasing diamonds. But Nathan sounds so proud about having tricked my boss that I choose not to share this information with him. “Yes, you may be right.” I smile. “And don’t worry, all is good between us. As good as it can be.”

My statement is a tick more upbeat than I intended it to be. I’m not only hesitant to burst his bubble about his over-the-top gesture, but I also feel an urge to put him at ease.

Uh-oh, that’s a bad sign.

Nathan presses a hand to his chest, his eyes darting to the sky. “Oh, thank you. I’ll sleep much better now.”

I shake my head at his theatrical gesture. “Don’t make me assume that I kept you awake all night. I’ll feel guilty.”

All teasing exaggeration disappears from his features. “Well, you did. But I don’t want you to feel guilty. It was an amazing night. Filled with wonderful memories.”

My face becomes so hot that I must look like the poppy flower from Espie’s favorite bedtime story.

Did he just say he was remembering me? What could he have…?

The alarm detector in my head starts a loud whistle. It clearly doesn’t agree with where my thoughts are going. And it’s probably right. Somehow this new Nathan is affecting me more than his somber alter ego, which isn’t a safe situation to be in. The best thing to do is to retreat from this conversation.

Fast.

Before more neighbors can join in to watch the spectacle we’re giving. Or before the staccato in my chest makes me say something I’ll regret later. “Uhm, okay. So…well, thanks for dropping by. And for bringing back my never-lost earrings. And…yeah, thanks. Bye…”

I back toward our stairs.

Nathan, instead of taking my hint, follows me to our doorstep. “My throat is parched. I’d love a glass of water before I drive home if it’s not too much bother.”

I’m about to say yes when I realize what inviting him in would mean. What if Abuelita and Espie come down while Nathan is still in our kitchen? I force out a chuckle that’s more like a bark, but I pretend it was meant to sound that way. “What? You don’t have a mini-fridge in that fancy car?”

My miserable joke is an attempt to buy time, but Nathan answers as if I’ve posed a legitimate question. “No, this model isn’t equipped with it, given that it’s a two-seater. So may I come in?”

My brain is working at full speed, while he stares at me, waiting on my verdict.

Nathan can’t possibly come into our home, even if it means that I must violate Abuelita’s sacred rule about being a good host. If my grandmother were to bump into him in our kitchen, it wouldn’t take long for her canny brain to connect the dots between my previous comment about rich guys and Nathan. Abuelita might be old, but she’s still a smart fox. Also, she doesn’t share Mom’s cynical vision about wealthy folks. She might even take Nathan in her sympathy…and I definitely can’t have that.

Not when my interest in him has spiked alarmingly in the past few minutes. No, I have to come up with an acceptable way to refuse and satisfy his