One Hot Chase (Hot Brits #12)

Chapter Three

Sabrina

As dawn approached, I had stealthily sneaked out of the Royal Suite. My heart was racing as I hurried to my own digs, packing all my belongings into my bags while plotting my escape. From whom? The man who had taken my body over and over again, giving me the most incredible sexual experiences I'd ever had. The first time had been mind blowing and filthy as well as brief. But I begged him for more, and surprisingly, he obliged. The way he made love to me after that quickie...It left me feeling so confused that I had to run away.

But sneaking out in the middle of the night was a cowardly move on my part.

Ugh, what do I do now? My family and friends had funded this vacation for me. Will they be able to get their money back since I left after only one night? Although I have no desire to see that man again, I can't help but feel guilty for running away like this. Now, I'm at a loss for what to do next. Spending some time alone to think seems like my best option.

Um, where should I go? I'm a tourist in a strange city.

I hurry down to the lobby and ask the desk clerk, Daniel, to call a taxi for me. Once I'm in the car, I ask the driver to recommend some of London's best sights along the river. After all, I am still a tourist and might as well make the most of my trip before I...do something else. There's no way I'm going back home to Asheville with my tail between my legs. And returning to the Savoy is out of the question. What if that man is still there?

The driver drops me off near a statue of Cleopatra on the Victoria Embankment, adjacent to the River Thames. According to my driver, it's one of the must-see attractions for tourists. After giving it a quick glance, I find a bench in a nearby park and sit down. The river isn't as picturesque as I had imagined it to be. Maybe I picked a bad spot.

Suddenly, a shadow looms over me.

Oh, great . The last thing I need right now is company. All I want is some time alone with my thoughts.

"Sabrina, darling, there you are."

I recognize that voice and instinctively turn to face the man who spoke. "Are you stalking me?"

He laughs. "No, pet, I wouldn't do anything so mundane."

I jump up from the bench and spin toward him. "Then how did you find me? And how do you know my name?"

He shrugs one shoulder. "With determination and a dash of skullduggery, a chap can accomplish anything."

I have no idea what any of that means. Despite my best efforts not to, I can't help admiring his physique, though I saw him naked last night. Today he's wearing a light blue shirt with two buttons undone (of course), khaki pants, a sleek brown leather jacket, and suede sneakers. I'm pretty sure the whole outfit is designer, and therefore way above my clothing budget. The dress I wore last night had blown a good chunk of my vacation budget.

But damn, the jerk looks good enough to lick---and nibble.

I feel downright frumpy in comparison, with my jeans, peasant top, and discount-store sneakers. I love these shoes, but I'm sure this conceited ape will turn his nose up at them.

As I swivel to face him, I cross my arms over my chest. "So, you admit to stalking me."

"Once again, it was not stalking," he insists, cocking his hip as he hooks his thumb inside his waistband. "This is a public park, after all."

I clutch my purse tightly, as if I'm afraid he might try to snatch it from me. But I don't actually think he would. "How did you even find me?"

He smirks. "I have my ways."

I shake my head in disbelief. "We had separate hotel rooms, and I never gave you my room number. That means you stalked me." I narrow my gaze, but he simply chuckles. "Tell me how you found me, or I will scream."

"No need for that. I'll gladly explain," he says smoothly. "I persuaded the desk clerk, Daniel, to give me your personal information. Then I tracked down the taxi driver, Roger, who told me he'd dropped you at the statue of Cleopatra."

I set my hands on my hips and glower at him. "You are unbelievable."

"Thank you for the compliment, pet. Perhaps my methods were a bit dramatic, but I couldn't let you walk away after one night."

Holy shit . This jerk is a master manipulator. Even I'm starting to believe his lies.

As he stands there, oozing charm and seductive appeal, I try to reach into my purse without drawing his attention. I have a small bottle of perfume. Maybe if I sprayed that in his eyes, it would give me enough time to run away.

He tilts his head slightly, still smiling. "Don't you want to know who I am, Sabrina?"

I glance around, hoping someone might wander by so I can shout for help. Luckily, a police officer is ambling down the path toward us. I turn back to the attractive but evil man in front of me. "No thanks. I don't need to know your name."

Bolting down the paved path, I frantically wave my arms in the air. "Help! Officer, please help!"

The policeman immediately starts running toward me and we meet halfway.

"What's wrong, miss?" the young cop asks. "Did someone nick your wallet?"

I point back toward the way I came. "That man over there, he followed me all the way from the Savoy Hotel to this trail. Please arrest him."

"What's your name, miss?"

"Sabrina Remington."

"I'm Constable Mansfield, and I'll gladly handle that tosser for you." He gazes past me intently. "That man seems to be approaching quickly. No worries."

The constable jogs down the path toward the obnoxious man, stopping in front of him. They exchange a few words before both bursting into laughter. Constable Mansfield then rejoins me with the man in tow.

The reptile has the audacity to smirk at me. "Sabrina and I just had a little disagreement and she ran off without me."

Ohh, I want to deck him so badly. But I resist the urge and instead glare at the constable. "I am not with this jerk. He's been harassing me."

"You must be mistaken, miss." Constable Mansfield gestures toward the evil man. "You're one lucky lady. Not many women get the chance to date a celebrity."

"What are you talking about? Who is this guy?"

"Guy?" The constable chuckles. "This is Declan Wilde."

"And I should I know who that is...why?"

The constable gives me an incredulous look. "He's Declan Wilde."

I throw my hands up. "So what?"

The jerk pats the officer's arm. "It's all right, mate. You know how women can be when they feel ignored. Go ahead, I'll take care of this. No harm done."

And the officer casually walks away down the path.

I slowly step back, keeping a safe distance between us. "Who the hell are you? A mobster? Cops bow down to you, desk clerks and taxi drivers worship you. It's insane. I've never even heard of Declan Wilde."

"Well, maybe you should look me up on your mobile phone." He casually strolls over to another bench and plops down onto it, stretching his arms across the back. "Go ahead, take your time."

I fume for about three seconds, then reluctantly pull out my phone and open the web browser, typing in his name. Oh no, he's actually famous. This is just perfect. No matter how much he stalks me, nobody will care because he's part of the famous Wilde family dynasty that's been around for ten generations. I didn't make that up. It's written in the headline of the very first article that pops up. Declan is described as a "multifaceted playboy-millionaire" and is one of the most well-known people in all of London if not the entire UK.

My shoulders slump as I shove my phone back into my purse. I plop down on the bench a few feet away from Declan. "This is just great. The slimeball who charmed me last night is just another womanizer. Ugh, my luck couldn't be worse."

"Relax, pet, this is your lucky day." His cocky smile returns. "You've caught the biggest fish in the dating world---me, Declan Wilde."

"Then I'm throwing you back into the sea." I lift my chin. "Besides, I'm a vegetarian."

Declan chuckles. "Is that why you devoured an eight-ounce steak last night?"

"You brainwashed me." But yeah, I do love steak. This hunky bag of human slime doesn't need to know that.

"So, you only eat meat when Declan Wilde shags you?"

I growl---seriously, I do. "You're evil."

"Sabrina darling, you're adorable when you get angry. So fiery and irresistible."

"I hope you burn in hell for eternity."

I spin around on my heels and march down the path, adamantly refusing to look behind me and see if that jerk is following. I veer onto the grass, cutting across it in an attempt to shake Declan off my trail. When I reach another, parallel pathway, I pause to plan my next move. Luckily, my phone has a maps feature, so I use it to plot my escape. I follow Carting Lane since it seems like the best option since I didn't rent a car. Since I had planned on staying at the Savoy and using taxis for transportation, I don't have many other options. But now that I've checked out of the hotel, going back there isn't an option either.

My route takes me through a narrow street, or maybe it's just a pedestrian walkway, until it finally leads me to The Strand, which apparently is what this road is called---just "The Strand," not Strand Street. At least, that's what it says on my map. Now that I'm here, I have no idea where to go next.

Scanning the area, I notice the Adelphi Theater across the street. That's interesting, but it doesn't help me navigate this unfamiliar place.

A taxi approaches, so I wave to get the driver's attention.

"Don't leave without me, darling. I'm an excellent tour guide."

Oh no, not him again. Hearing Declan's voice confirms my suspicions. He has been following me. But I decide to play along and act like I can't hear him. As soon as the taxi stops, I jump in and shut the door.

Meanwhile, Declan just stands there on the sidewalk, wearing that cocky grin.

"Where to, miss?" asks the driver before turning to look at me with a smile. "Oh, it's you again. Didn't catch your name last time."

"Sabrina Remington," I reply, tapping my foot nervously. I want to tell Roger to hurry up and drive away from here, but I don't want to be rude.

"I'm Roger Jones. Nice to officially meet you. Where do you want to go this time, lovey?"

"Not sure. Do you have any recommendations? I'm on vacation here in the UK."

"How about Trafalgar Square? It's not too far from here."

"Perfect."

As Roger starts the taxi rolling, I try my hardest to avoid looking at Declan out the window. My eyes seem to have a mind of their own and force me to glance at him, the annoyingly cheerful jerk who's been following me.

"Are you and Declan Wilde dating?" Roger asks curiously.

"No, absolutely not. I just met him yesterday, and he's been nothing but rude to me."

"What? I can't believe that."

Great . It seems like even Roger is a fan of Declan, just like that constable. Instead of getting into a debate about his supposed charm, I take a different approach go for politeness. "Do you know Declan personally? I don't. Everyone seems to love him, though."

"Yeah, everyone does. He's a good man. One of the best."

"What does he do for a living?"

Roger continues driving with one hand on the wheel while he turns to face me. "Declan Wilde isn't your average playboy. He's actually one of the most generous philanthropists in England. And he's a successful digital entrepreneur too."

"I've never heard of that. What does a digital entrepreneur do?"

"Lots of things." Roger navigates around a corner, then explains. "Sir Declan's company discovers podcasters and helps them find their niche. But he also gives struggling online storefronts a boost with grants. He nurtures social media influencers too, and he also finds and hires computer wizards who've lost their jobs. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. He only takes a minimal salary for himself."

What?! Thats's what I want to shout, but I stop myself out of politeness. The jackass is also a do-gooder? It's hard for me to wrap my head around this new information. "What kind of playboy is Declan?"

"He loves women, but he always treats them with respect. 'Playboy' isn't really the right word for him. Declan Wilde isn't like anyone else."

No kidding . Have I completely misjudged him? No, he was stalking me. And it seems like he plans to keep on doing that.

On the way to Trafalgar Square, Roger and I talk about everything except for Declan. The driver is delighted when I mention that my sister is marrying a British man.

"Will she move here?" Roger asks. "I assume your parents are in the States."

"Yeah, they own a lovely antique shop in Asheville, North Carolina. But Tabitha won't be relocating to England. She works with her fiancé, Spencer, at a company in Arlington, Virginia."

"He won't get to see his family much, eh?"

"Oh, he can visit them anytime he wants and vice versa. Spencer has friends who are super rich, including two billionaires."

Roger grins at me. "Are you having me on? Billionaires?"

"It's true. Diana Hahn, formerly Diana Sangster, married an American man and they live here in London. Then there's Evan MacTaggart, who mostly lives in Utah with his American wife but also visits Scotland from time to time."

He chuckles. "No wonder you were staying at the Savoy. Did your mates pay for your holiday?"

"Yep." Should I tell Roger about my mission? He's so nice, and maybe he could help. "Okay, this might sound crazy, but I'm actually in England to find my PC."

"Somebody stole your computer?"

"No, no. I mean my Perfect Catch, aka my PC."

"Oh, I see. Declan would be perfect for a sweet girl like you."

How do I tell Roger how much of a jerk Declan really is without hurting his feelings? It's clear that he's a big fan of that asshat. But can I really blame him? Declan can be charming when he wants to be, like when he seduced me last night. Maybe I should try the diplomatic approach. "Actually, Declan isn't really my type. No offense to him. I just have certain criteria for my PC and he doesn't quite fit the mold."

"Fair enough." Roger slows down as we approach our destination. "Where should I drop you off, lovey?"

"Hmm, as close as possible to the cool statues and museums, if you don't mind."

"Sounds good," he says as we navigate a traffic circle and reach our destination. "Here you go, Sabrina. On your right is the Equestrian Statue of King Charles the First. And on your left, you'll see all the famous Trafalgar Square monuments."

"Thank you so much, Roger." I hand him some money, making sure to give him a generous tip for his kindness and great conversation during the ride. "I really enjoyed talking with you."

"The pleasure was all mine, Sabrina." He hands me his business card. "Give me a ring if you need another ride."

I lean over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "You're the best."

Roger smiles as he drives away, and I walk toward the big statue in front of me.

At least Declan isn't here to ruin my fun.