Page 35 of The Admiral's Daughter

I wave my cutlery around, dismissing her apology. “Never apologise for loving bacon. There would be a mutiny on board if we ever ran out. It’s universally loved.”

For the first time in days, I feel my stomach lose enough tension to enjoy eating again. I can’t believe I’ve been so wound up. My eyes gravitate to Cleo. This woman has somehow affected me so much, I couldn’t eat. I’ve hardly slept either. Fascinating.

Actually, it’s been shit. But now, sitting here with Cleo, watching her demolish that bacon like it’s her last meal…I feel normal again. Better than normal.

What is it about her? I know I’m a sucker for red hair, but I’ve been with plenty of women with flaming locks, and not an iota of interest past the one night of fun surfaced in me.

Is it simply the fact Cleo didn’t fall for my charms? Will we do this dating thing and find out I’m no different from the person she met that night? I just simply had to conquer her. Ew, that’s not a nice thought. However, I need to be realistic. My track record isn’t indicative of someone with deep emotions.

“You’re staring at me.”

Cleo has finished her breakfast, whereas I’ve still got half a plate. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

Licking her lips, she wipes her mouth with a paper napkin. All the time, her eyes are on me. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No. I guess I’m a little nervous. Are you?”

She laughs, but it sounds choked. “Only every ten seconds or so.”

Oh, well, that’s not good.

But also…kind of reassuring? At least I’m not the only one freaking out.

“But I want to try, River. God knows why, but I do.”

“It’s my smile, isn’t it?” I smirk. “You’re a sucker for the lopsided grin.”

“I see your confidence is coming back.”

Piling two sausages between my toast, I take a giant bite. “You like confidence,” I respond through my food.

Cleo grimaces. “Chew and swallow first, please. And yes, I like confidence. But there’s a difference between that and being cocky. One I like. The other not so much.”

Washing down my sandwich with some coffee, I let her words filter in. “I get that, and you might have to be patient with me. It’s like a natural state for me. Being cocky, that is.”

She looks amused. “I’m well aware.”

“But,” I say, holding up my index finger, “I promised I’d give this a real shot. So, if my player makes an appearance, it’s totally involuntary.”

She chuckles, and I like it. “Like I said earlier. I don’t want you to change who you are, River. If you’re being authentic with me, then you do you.”

“And you’ll be authentic with me? Tit for tit and all that, Ms Carter.”

“There will be no tits in the equation for some time, Dawson. But yes, I’ll be authentic.”

I already like what I see with her. She’s fiery and passionate. I know there’s so much more to see. But that goes both ways.

What if there’s nothing more to see in me?

12

Cleo

It’s not as easyas I thought, switching from personal to professional. Not when River has an effortless way of injecting a flirtatious tone into every sentence.

This is going to get complicated.

“Time to get serious, Dawson. Are you ready to start the interview?”