All Chapters of Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire: Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

Nathaniel's POV The moment the door clicked shut behind Annie, I let myself smile for the first time since the meeting started. Hell, that woman knocked me completely off balance. I dropped into my chair and dragged my hands over my face, trying to process what had just happened. It had been two full months since that flight to London, and I still hadn't managed to get Annabelle Bennett out of my head for a single day. And it wasn't just the sex. Although God, that had been... intense in a way I never saw coming. It was everything about her. The way she had clung to me during the turbulence, terrified and brave at the same time. The way our conversation had flowed so naturally. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her career goals. But mostly, it was the fact that she had rejected me. Nathaniel Carter, COO of Kensington London, a man who never had trouble getting a woman's attention, and she had looked me straight in the eye, said it wasn't happening, and walked away

I was late on Friday at 8.30 am. Of course I was. On the day of the dinner with the Franconian investors, my alarm decided not to go off. My shower took a century to heat up. And now I was sprinting through Kensington's hallways like my life depended on it. Balancing my bag, a folder full of Vintara documents, and a giant coffee from the corner shop, I rushed toward the elevators. One of them was already closing. "Hold it, please!" I shouted, picking up speed. A hand shot out between the doors, stopping them just in time. I silently thanked whatever good soul had saved me from another five-minute wait. "Thank you, you're an a—" I started as I stepped inside without looking. Nathaniel Carter leaned against the back wall. Perfect in a navy suit. Watching me with that smile I was starting to know way too well. Shit. "Good morning, Annabelle," he said as he hit the button to close the doors. "Not coming in?" I froze in the doorway like an idiot, still processing. Backing ou

I managed to keep myself busy for a few hours, pretending to review reports and answer emails. But my mind was miles away. Every time someone walked past my desk, I felt that paranoid twist in my stomach that they were looking at me funny. Then I realized it wasn't paranoia. They actually were. I noticed the whispers that stopped the second I walked by. The sideways glances, followed by hushed conversations. Margaret, Nathaniel's secretary, greeted me with a smile that looked painfully forced. James from finance looked me up and down in a way he had never done before. When Gwen finally got back from lunch at two-thirty, she headed straight to my desk wearing an expression caught between concern and pure nosiness. "Okay," she said, dragging a chair beside mine. "Why is the entire office buzzing about the Verdanian girl who was supposedly giving…" She made air quotes. "Sexual favors to the COO in the elevator?" All the color drained from my face. This was worse than I'd imagine

Nathaniel's POV If I thought Annabelle had been acting strange before the Franconians arrived. What happened during dinner left me completely thrown. The three representatives from Blackwell Estate, Peter, the family patriarch, his son Henry, and their export consultant Jacob were greeted by the most polished, composed version of Annabelle I had ever seen. It was impressive. And maddening. For the next two hours, she ran the table, not just held her own. She led with a confidence that reminded me exactly why Christian had insisted she come to London. When Peter asked about Vintara's launch in Verdania, she spoke with genuine passion about organic wines. Enough to captivate all three men. When Henry questioned cultural differences between Euradian and Verdanian consumers, she delivered smart insights and practical examples. What stunned me most was how she managed to be charming and professional at the same time. She laughed at Jacob's jokes, asked sharp questions about the Bl

Two months had passed since the dinner with the Franconian investors, and things were finally starting to settle. London fall had arrived in full force, turning Hyde Park gold and red in a way I could see perfectly from the office window. The mornings were colder now, demanding thick coats and scarves, and the afternoons grew dark earlier every day. I had gotten used to the city's rhythm, to Gwen's unwavering three-o-clock-tea routine, and to the red buses that still made me smile every time they rolled past the glass. More importantly, I had gotten used to my new routine at work. The whispers in the hallways had faded until they were gone. People stopped giving me strange looks when I walked through the marble corridors of Kensington. Margaret went back to greeting me with her warm, genuine smile. I was almost certain Nate had handled the situation behind the scenes. I never asked directly, but I noticed the way he always included me in important meetings, how he openly asked fo