Law #1: Never Bet on Love: A Sweet Billionaire Love Story (Laws of Love)

by Agnes Canestri

  For one day only.

  Tomorrow, if I feel like, I can go back into safe mode again.

  Chapter 14

  (Nathan - Day 4)

  Why did I listen to Murphy? Why?

  I slap myself inwardly as I steer my Jaguar toward the flashy palace that’s supposed to be the location of my first official date with Eva.

  On the passenger seat, Eva shifts and lets out a nervous little cough.

  I shoot a side-glance at her. Oh no, she must also be bewildered by the building’s ostentatiousness. Her eyes are fixed on the stream of people walking through the large double-door that leads inside. Her hands fiddle with the skirt of her simple summer dress.

  The soft lilac fabric suits her skin tone perfectly, and the oval cleavage elongates her delicate neckline to perfection. Nonetheless, judging by her fazed expression, I can tell she feels underdressed. To be fair, the guests here seem like they’re going to a bling-bling award ceremony.

  What was my brother even thinking?

  Hidden gem, my eye.

  I take in the gold-covered window frames and glittery wall-paint of the building and my blood chills further. This darned place will ruin everything for me. It won’t matter that I chose the least expensive car from my garage for our date. Nor that I showed up at Eva’s doorstep with a single rose. Eva will surely think that I want to impress her with my big bucks by bringing her here.

  Which, ironically, is exactly the opposite of what I was trying to do.

  I grit my teeth, considering whether Murphy made a genuine error. He broke up with his ex six months ago. Maybe the place was sold since he came here with her and the new owner decided to give it a revived look. An extremely tacky and flashy one, no doubt.

  Or did my brother do it on purpose? I probably shouldn’t have revealed to him that Eva was put off by the billionaire lifestyle. It could be that Murphy chose to create an extra challenge for me.

  I harden my grip on the wheel.

  It really doesn’t matter. I was the idiot for enlisting Murphy’s help. I should have just picked a simple coffeehouse in town or something. Nobody forced me to drive to this isolated country club for the newly rich.

  But I wanted my time with Eva to be special. I had planned for it to take place somewhere impressive but with an understated charm that would appeal to Eva. I definitely wanted to avoid the money-flashing crowd. Then when Murphy came up the suggestion about Swan Lake, I thought I’d hit the jackpot. Murphy described the location as “a pearl nestled on a reservoir as blue as the Apache lake.” He said it was small enough to preserve a cuddly and authentic feel. He even raved about their croque-monsieur toast and creamy cappuccino. All in all, it sounded like an ideal place to take Eva.

  My gaze moves to the fountain with four naked female statues situated in front of the posh entrance, and I cringe inwardly. Every inch of its outer side is covered in sparkling stones, perhaps glass, but more likely Swarovski crystals or gems.

  I should have googled it. I should’ve friggin’ googled it.

  “Oh, Murphy, Murphy! What have you done?” I murmur inaudibly. At least I think it’s inaudible, when in reality I must have spoken strong enough for Eva to hear.

  “Murphy?” she asks. “What did your brother do?”

  I clear my throat. “It was my brother who recommended this venue.”

  Eva furrows her brows. “I thought you said we’re going to a small coffeehouse?”

  “That’s what I thought, too.” I swallow. “Obviously Murphy mixed things up.”

  And that’s putting it mildly. My brother even got the name wrong. The giant letters above the arch of the entry read Flamingo Lake, not Swan Lake.

  I stop my car in front of the monster fountain and wait for one of the valets.

  There are so many of them flickering around, rushing to park the countless Hummers and Ferraris rolling in that they make the parking look like a giant anthill. Or perhaps like an exotic termite mound, considering the gaudy red velvet uniforms they’re wearing.

  “Did someone sculpt the face of Kim Kardashian on that one?” Eva points at the fountain.

  I follow her finger and the dingy thing decides to spit water just as I go to answer her. The drops come out the sculpture’s mouth and nipples in the colors of the rainbow, enhancing the blatant exaggeratedness of the whole to an unbearable level.

  I stifle a groan. “Uhmm…yes. I think it’s safe to assume that the owner is a fan of KUWTK.”

  Eva giggles. “Yes, and that he has a fetish for things that scream look-at-me-I’ve-got-money-but-no-taste.” To my relief, her voice is more amused than annoyed.

  Does she realize I’m just as dismayed and put off by this place as she is? In case she doesn’t, maybe I should make it clear. “This”—I wave toward the fountain—“is not at all what I had in mind when I invited you out. We can go somewhere else…” I break off.

  Before suggesting anything, I should consider where we could go. We drove half an hour to this isolated lake, and I’m not sure there is anywhere else around here to grab a coffee other than the Starbucks I saw when we exited the highway.

  A valet taps on my window. His bowtie dips forward as he salutes us. “May I take your keys, sir?” He holds out his palm.

  I roll down my window and shake my head. “Actually, I’m not sure we’re staying. This place is just…uhm…” I’m looking for the right words, but the only ones that come to mind are “showy” and “flaunting.” I don’t want to offend the man by calling his workplace that.

  Eva comes to my aid. “We were looking for something more quiet, just to have a cup of coffee or tea. Do you know anyplace like that nearby?”

  She bends across me slightly to meet the man’s eyes. As she does, a scent so enticing and appetizing wafts over me that I have to press my back to my seat to stop leaning into her neck and sniffing at her.

  The valet eyes my car, then his squirrel face takes in our clothes. A sympathetic smile appears on his lips. “Well, you’re not dressed appropriately, anyway. You’ll have better luck with that small bistro at the end of this road.” From the way he speaks, it sounds like he isn’t happy about his ridiculously fancy attire either.

  “Where is it exactly?” I ask.

  “It’s located on the opposite side of the lake. Way more relaxed than this establishment. It’s called the Swan Lake.”

  Oh, shoot. Have I been too quick to judge my brother?

  “Okay, thanks for the tip,” I say and roll up my window.

  I get out of the parking lot and step on the gas. In less than seven minutes, we’ve arrived to our destination. This time for real.

  “Now that’s more like it,” I murmur.

  Eva is also grinning. “What a lovely little teahouse. And look at those orchids. I can’t believe they manage to cultivate them like this outside. I thought our climate was too dry for them.”

  I get out and go around to open Eva’s door. I hold my hand to her, despite knowing she’ll probably just ignore it as she did when I drove her home from the florist. But to my surprise, she places her palm into mine as she straightens.

  The thrills shooting into my chest are so pleasant, I don’t want the feeling to stop. Instead of releasing her, I slam the door with my free hand which causes the awkward gesture of having to cross my arm against our intertwined fingers.

  Eva tilts her head to the side. “It might’ve been easier with your other hand.”

  “No, no. That one is occupied right now.”

  Her cheeks blush.

  I decide to profit from her moment of hesitation and drag her with me toward the entrance.

  We walk there hand in hand, and I bathe in the glow that spreads through me from her touch. I know I’m not supposed to be getting feelings for Eva, but as long as they’re just these delightful physical reactions, I don’t see a problem with it.

  At the entrance door, Eva pulls her hand from my grip. I’m not sure if she’s fed up with us being this intimate or just puzzled
by it. A bit like I am. Or perhaps she wants to use both of her hands to push the door ajar.

  A skinny waitress walks us to a table on a terrace with a superb view of the lake.

  We choose their extra-creamy cappuccinos following my brother’s advice. After all, Murphy has redeemed himself in my eyes—or, rather, I should never have doubted his good intentions in the first place.

  After taking our order, the waitress doesn’t leave. Instead, she studies me as if trying to decide whether we’ve already met somewhere. “Are you, by any chance, Nathan Montgregor?”

  “Yes, I am. Why do you ask?” I answer slowly, trying to figure out how she knows my name. I’m not a tabloid figure with scandalous affairs and I swear that I’ve never had anything to do with this redhead in my entire life.

  Eva gives me with a questioning glance, probably wondering the same thing.

  The waitress scratches her bony chin. “Your brother called a few minutes ago and asked me to give you a message.”

  Murphy? Ah, my brother just can’t keep his meddling under control. “Did he now? And what was his message?” I inquire, half-curious, half-annoyed.

  The waitress points at the lake. “He suggested that, while you wait on your order, you should go and do a little paddling in the lake. Our coffeehouse has various rowboats that are free of charge to our guests.” She throws a conspiratorial glance at Eva. “It’s madly romantic out there, I assure you.”

  Eva’s face pales. “How long do you usually take to prepare two cappuccinos?” she inquires in a small voice.

  The waitress licks her lips and their contours, outlined with a bright-pink pencil, blur somewhat. “Five minutes, give or take…”

  Eva’s expression relaxes. “Then there is really no time for us to—”

  “But…” The waitress winks. “I can tell the kitchen to hold your order until you’re back. No worries. Floating on the waves with a guy…especially with such a handsome one like your companion? If I were you, I wouldn’t miss out on this chance.”

  I throw a slanted glance at the vivid sapphire-hued water. The spring breeze creates mesmerizing ripples that break the crystalline quality in such an organized manner that I have to assume an intelligent mind must be behind its sheer beauty.

  Perhaps Murphy’s reasoning isn’t bad? Sitting in this cozy terrace is nice, but drifting on the lake in a small boat where my body and Eva’s are bound to come closer would be a whole other ballgame. It could be the perfect setting for us to get more comfortable with each other.

  I put my hand on Eva’s fingers, resting on the table. “I think it’s a marvelous idea. Let’s go and try it.”

  Her eyes dart to me. “But…it’s…” She furrows her brows. “Don’t you want to follow your plan for us? Get a coffee?”

  Ah, she must be testing me. “We can do that later. At this moment, I’d rather be spontaneous.” I grin. “I didn’t know there was a possibility to navigate on the lake, but now that I do, I say we should go for it. You know, carpe diem and all.”

  Eva gapes as if she’s trying to evaluate whether I’m serious. Then her lips slowly curl up. “Okay, fine. If you like, I’m game.”

  “Fabulous!” The waitress beams at us. “Take your time in the boat. Your drinks will only be served once you’re back.“

  Chapter 15

  (Eva)

  My flats glide along the graveled lake path with an ease I’m not feeling. I try to focus my attention on the violets and daffodils lining our way, but the accusing voice in my head doesn’t want to let me off the hook.

  You shouldn’t have agreed to this. Why did you?

  One side-glance at Nathan’s radiant face, however, is enough to answer this question.

  He saunters beside me with a large smile that lifts his prominent cheekbones even higher than usual. His eyes are fixed on the small rental station by the water, as if he can’t wait for us to get there and into one of the boats.

  My heart gives a beat out of rhythm, as if to hammer this puzzling truth home.

  Nathan was so proud of his spontaneous offer, I couldn’t shatter his enthusiasm by admitting that I can’t swim. Plus, I would have felt embarrassed saying it out loud.

  I spot a sparrow in the hedgerow. It tilts its tiny head toward me and chirps loudly. It seems to be singing, “Don’t worry, Eva.”

  Maybe the bird is right? It’s not like I’ve never been in a rowboat. And I’ve never tipped overboard.

  Right, but I’ve never been on one with Nathan. And the way his closeness makes me act out could lead to serious consequences if I don’t watch myself. Could I end up in the lake if his touch startles me? It’s not an unlikely scenario.

  I inhale slowly, willing my upset stomach to calm.

  Fine, even if that happens, I’ll paddle ashore like a dog. Espie, who has been taking swimming classes, showed me how to do that. It should be enough to save me from drowning. Even if, quite frankly, I’d prefer not to act like a Labrador in front of Nathan.

  Nathan puts a hand on my back and his touch brings me back to reality.

  “So, which one would you like? The red or the yellow one?” He indicates the boats tied to an iron loop. A painting of a vine-coiled, smiling face blooms on the side of each.

  None, please. “Ah…the red one?”

  “Then the red one it is.” Nathan grins and strides forward on the wooden jetty. He lifts a leg, ready to clamber in.

  Panic assaults me as I see that he isn’t aiming for the boat’s center. “What are you doing?” I squeak.

  He freezes and his eyes dart to me. “Getting into the boat?”

  “I can see that. But you’re doing it wrong.”

  “What do you mean wrong?” He lowers his leg and pivots to me. His face plays with an earnest ingenuity that warms my heart.

  “Nathan,” I say, taking a step toward him. “You do know how to row a boat, right?”

  “Sure, I do.” He winks. “I have a rowing machine in my gym. It shouldn’t be very different from that.”

  Perhaps I’m not the one who’ll risk ending up in the water after all. “Well, theoretically, you know the movements then. But a long narrow boat in the water and a piece of equipment on the ground aren’t the same thing. I went on a rowboat a few times with my step-dad. It isn’t as stable as it seems.”

  Nathan scratches his head, and his fingers dishevel his dark hair into a bad-boy style that raises my pulse. “Okay, so how am I supposed to get in then?”

  I feel slightly ridiculous lecturing him, given my own lack of experience, but I figure I still know more about real boats than he does. “Rowboats are tippy, so you need to keep as low as possible and position your weight in the center of the boat as you step on it.”

  Nathan taps his forehead. “Right, this sounds reasonable. Let’s try it.” He climbs in with a fair amount of vigorous rocking and sits down with his back to the bow.

  Good, at least he knows he needs to face the stern.

  He blinks up at me, smiling. “Your turn.” He extends a hand to me.

  I wait till even the slightest toss from his entry subsides, then try to elegantly step across the rippling water. Despite the lesson I gave Nathan, I over-balance and he has to grab my waist to keep me from falling. Unfortunately, the warmth from his touch wobbles my knees even further, so I flop ungracefully on the wooden seat and bump my rear hard.

  “Ouch, did that hurt?” Nathan inquires promptly.

  “No, not one bit,” I lie, biting back the hiss of pain.

  “Great, so now the paddles.” Nathan wiggles his brows.

  “The oars, but yes, that’s the next step.” I smile back at him. It’s almost funny how I correct him, but still he’s more comfortable in his skin in this fickle vehicle than I am.

  Nathan grabs the oars and places them into the rings. “Any last great advice before we start on this adventure?” he asks, as he unties our boat from the jetty.

  My eyes travel to his arms, and I ignore the thrills that wash over me.


  He definitely has the right muscles for rowing, but without proper technique, we could still end up in a big, wet mess. It’s in my best interest to give Nathan some tips. I try to summon all the knowledge I gathered observing my step-father as a child. “A good rower will always feather.” His mouth drifts into a confused frown and I add, “It’s when you turn the oar sideways as you come forward to lessen the resistance.”

  “Ah, yes, I get it. Like this.” He demonstrates that he understood what I just said, and the boat glides backwards.

  “Very good,” I compliment, “and if you want us to turn, you simply row with one side only.”

  He tries that too, and we make a slow pirouette with the boat.

  Strangely enough, my stomach clenches with giddiness instead of fear as we twirl around. I don’t know why, but I feel perfectly safe with Nathan. Maybe because I can see he’s getting the hang of rowing super fast, or, perhaps, it’s that glance he’s giving me. Like he will jump in and rescue me if I tip over the side.

  Whatever it is, as the ducks waggle and squawk alongside us while Nathan rows the boat gently toward the middle of the lake, my shoulders relax.

  There are walkers on the path around the lake, and a small child waves at us. Nathan and I wave back and then exchange a smile with each other.

  “This is pretty nice, isn’t it?” Nathan murmurs. “Maybe I should listen to my brother’s advice more often.”

  His statement spikes my curiosity. “So your brother and you…are you two close?”

  “We are…uhm…okay…”

  “Okay? That’s not very loving, no? I’m close to my brothers and sister, even if we don’t have the same dad.”

  I peek up at him.

  The sun illuminates his skin, and I can see a hint of stubble sprouting on his chin, even though it’s still early afternoon. My naughty mind immediately wonders if he skipped shaving or if he’s just such a manly man that his five-o-clock shadow needs two sessions per day to be properly tamed. The way his chest expands as he moves the oars makes me lean immediately toward the latter.