Law #1: Never Bet on Love: A Sweet Billionaire Love Story (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (i read book txt) 📕

my gaze dips to her mouth. A red web of desire circles through my body as her lips glimmer in the sun. Right now, I have tons of ideas about how she could repay me… No, Nathan focus. Think of the bet. Maybe this is the moment to press her to accept my previous invite? She wouldn’t refuse it now that she feels obligated to please me.

But just as I’m about speak up, something blocks me. Despite my usual instinct to achieve what I want in the fastest possible way, I swallow back my words. This isn’t how I want Eva to agree to spend time with me. To my surprise, the following phrase comes out of my mouth. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. Not for the flowers, and not because of the car. If anything, I owe you because you let me stick around, despite your lack of enthusiasm about my company in the beginning.“

Eva’s jaw goes slack. “Wow, I didn’t expect this.”

The warmth of her voice starts an odd buzz in my chest. “I’m glad I could surprise you.”

“Yes, me too.”

I wonder whether there is a hidden meaning to her words. I decide to try my chance. “Does this mean you might be ready to give me a chance to work for what I want?”

She furrows her brows. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’d love to invite you….” Restrain yourself, man. Take it slow. “Like I said in Cathy’s shop, for a coffee? Or tea? Whichever you prefer.”

Will she accept? If she doesn’t, I might need to admit my defeat. If she isn’t ready to take a chance on me even after I’ve admitted to being a jerk, spoke to her about my life, showed her my shortcomings, and acted nicely with her brother…than she truly has no grain of interest in me.

Eva’s lips move into a shy smile. “Okay, fine. We could do that, I guess.”

Yes!

Oddly, her acceptance doesn’t only trigger joy at getting closer to winning my bet. No, the type of emotion it sets off in me is more like genuine happiness. My stomach is buzzing with anticipation, as if I’m signing a multi-million-dollar deal. I say, “Fine. What about now?”

Eva shakes her head. “My grandmother will be home soon. Also tonight my cousin is visiting us from Phoenix.”

Grrrr…a refusal. Again.

But before I have time to get bitter, Eva adds, “Laia, my cousin, leaves tomorrow around lunchtime. How about we meet after that?”

“That’s perfect. I can come and pick you up at two. Would that be okay?”

“Yes, it would.” Eva smiles, then her glance wanders to my pants. “I’ll get a cloth to dust you off or you’ll ruin the driver seat.”

We both stare at the tacky yellow scribbles for a second, and a chuckle escapes our throats almost simultaneously. Yes, my dirty pants won’t destroy my Bentley any further. The begonias and Juan’s chalk spray did a good job of that already.

As I blink back at Eva, my expression sobers and my heart accelerates.

I might have succeeded in the first step of my plan. Eva has agreed to a date with me. But somehow I’m also inching forward down a forbidden path. That of liking Eva. I need to remember I can only win the bet if Eva likes me, but I don’t end up falling for her.

That might just turn out to be a bigger challenge than I thought.

Chapter 13

(Eva - Day 4)

“Laia, could you please quit it? That sound is driving me crazy.”

Laia is walking in circles around a fresh heap of soil, her sandals creating a shuffling noise as she drags her feet.

My cousin stops and her large, brown eyes—just a few shades lighter than my own—flick to my face. “Why are you so grumpy?”

“I’m not,” I snap. “I just want to be done with gardening.”

It’s shortly after lunch, and I’m trying to finish planting the last line of flowers before Nathan arrives. We couldn’t finish all of the plants after Juan’s little bravado, and I only have two hours left before he is supposed to show up.

I might’ve told Laia that I’m not tense, but I’m getting more nervous with each second. My stomach is set in knots, a clear sign that I might’ve made a mistake accepting the offer for coffee. It’s just that after his kind reaction to Juan’s masterpiece I….what?

Did I feel obligated? That’s what I’ve been telling myself. But I know it’s not the truth.

Nathan’s unexpected behavior with my brother, together with what he told me about his family, made me see him under a different light. A far more attractive, human light.

Unfortunately, it has also started me on a path of self-doubt. The question of whether I’m too prejudiced against wealthy men nags at the back of my mind. I can’t decide if Nathan is an odd one out, or if I’ve let my mother’s story lead me to assume the worst in people who don’t necessarily deserve it?

“Eva, what are you thinking about?” My cousin’s voice interrupts my mental dissection.

Laia’s forehead creases and she squints at me. This particular expression of suspicion is one that we tend to share, so I can imagine what’s coming. “You were pondering about Mr. Duke-of-the-Roses. Admit it,” she says.

I fight back the blush that’s bound to come. But as the heat spreads from my neck to my cheeks, I know my attempt to hide the obvious is in vain. I drop my glance down to the hole I’ve dug, pretending to measure if it’s deep enough. “Mr. Duke-of-the-Roses? You’ve spent too much time listening to Espie and Juan’s gossip. They must’ve put the wrong idea into your head about Nathan and me.”

While I was in the Desert Rose, my siblings filled in my cousin and Abuelita about my mystery helper. Juan didn’t spare any details—to his merit, he even confessed about Nathan’s Bentley. Luckily, Abuelita had gone to bed by the time I got home and then left early