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‘Yes it is,’ she said with asperity. ‘Don’t think you can bully me into a date because of anything Gina said.’
He leaned forward on the seat, put his head in his hands and laughed helplessly.
‘Oh, stop,’ she said witheringly, watching him half in disgust, half in amusement. ‘It wasn’t that funny. You’re trying too hard and, I’ve told you, there’s no point.’
His laughter didn’t stop and she began to wonder if there was something in the joke she was missing. He was finding her just a little too amusing. Enough. She was finally starting to feel quite cold and experiencing urges she needed to control. Urges to get closer to a guy she knew to be a player. Summoning her dignity, she stood.
‘Are you going to go back in now and party?’ He smiled, rising as well.
She realised then just how tall he was. She was no midget—in these heels she was almost six feet—yet he was a good couple of inches taller again. She had to look up to try to see into those fabulous eyes. Catching them looking at her so warmly, she immediately felt it best to look away, fast.
‘Actually I think I’m going to go home.’
‘Good idea,’ he replied blandly.
She glanced back up at him. There was no condescension apparent in his face, but her hackles rose regardless. She needed to get away from here. Correction, right away from him. Had she underestimated Gina’s ability to matchmake or what? This guy made her pulse beat.
‘It was nice to meet you at last, Karl. Have a good night.’ She nodded at him politely and, without thinking, held her hand out to shake his. As soon as he took it she realised her mistake. The physical contact sent a bolt of electricity surging up her arm straight to her heart, causing it to contract. His grip was firm. His skin warm and dry. Another tremor ran through her. His grasp tightened and they stood linked, staring at each other. Her pulse picked up and she felt the flicker of excitement in her belly. She saw the recognition in his face. She jerked her hand out of his instantly, muttered a barely intelligible ‘goodbye’, and headed for the door.
He watched her step away from him. Should he have told her? Probably, but the temptation had proved too hard to resist, was still too hard to resist. He glanced down the now empty corridor and slipped inside, not turning towards the party as he ought, but heading for the stairs as quickly as possible. An attack of the lusts. Hadn’t had one this severe in…well, ever, he didn’t think. Five minutes back on home soil and he was utterly tempted by a foreign Venus. He hit the ground floor unable to stop the smile as he stepped into the foyer.
Lissa breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t do ‘a little fun’, as Gina had urged. Now was definitely a good time to escape. Deep in thought, she marched out of the lift and straight into the figure standing before it. Firm hands grasped her upper arms and her nose was sore from bumping against the hardness underneath the wool jumper, which was all she could see ahead of her.
‘Oh, I’m so—’ She stopped short as she looked up at whom she’d just cannoned into. Mr Green Eyes himself. She frowned deeply as she watched his smile widen with quite obvious amusement. ‘What?’ she asked, unable to stop the rude bite. He nettled her, put her off balance.
‘I’m going to drive you home.’ The easy note of authority irked her more.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Yes, I am.’
She frowned at him again. ‘You can’t drive; you’ve been drinking.’
‘I’ve had one drink the whole evening and had food earlier. I’m fine to drive.’
Her frown morphed into a glower. ‘My mother taught me not to get into cars with strangers.’
‘I’m not a stranger. We’ve just spent the past half-hour getting to know each other.’
She thought about it for a moment, knowing she was weakening. Gina knew this guy well, and quite frankly, the idea of a ride home in a car was appealing. It would beat a crowded tube and ten minute walk at the other end. The strappy shoes weren’t great long distance, not even medium distance.
Even more tempting was the idea of spending another ten minutes in his company. Just a little more practice? Sharpen the flirt claws?
‘Besides,’ he continued to persuade—she knew he could sense success, ‘you’ve made your lack of interest very clear. So you’ve nothing to fear.’
Have I? she thought. Damn. Seeing all of him properly for the first time in the lit foyer, she realised her instincts had been right. He was one sexy animal. She stood staring up at him, her mind refusing to compute as quickly as usual. All she could seem to focus on were those fabulous green eyes. She saw the amusement in them. Why it didn’t bother her, she couldn’t say. Rather she simply felt the urge to lean in and share the joke. He stepped closer and held her arms tighter. The contact broke through her clouded mind.
‘Well, if you insist.’ She attempted a laconic drawl.
‘I do.’
She raised her eyebrows slightly and allowed herself to be guided back into the lift. She looked at him in query.
‘There’s a car park in the basement.’
Leaning back against the lift wall she avoided his gaze and speculated on his choice of car. It would definitely be fast and flashy. Hell, probably a convertible with heated leather seats.
He took her arm again as they exited the lift and steered her through the line-up of closely parked cars. She tried to ignore the sensations that his thumb and every one of those fingers were causing. They were needles of electricity, points of awareness pressing into her. She pulled her lips into her mouth and pressed on them hard.
She wasn’t at all prepared for the slightly dented, giant maroon people carrier that he stopped beside. The seven-seater was obviously used to being full. There was the unmistakable smell of infants. An assortment of papers and candy wrappers was scattered on the floor and two of the rear seats were fitted with child restraints.
‘Are we expecting anyone else?’ she asked blandly.
‘No,’ came the equally bland response. She sat down and made to fasten her seat belt. Suddenly she stopped. Reaching underneath her, she pulled out a half-eaten pack of now very squashed raisins. Wordlessly she passed them to him.
‘Oh, good,’ he said, taking them with a pleased smile. ‘I was wondering where they went. Supper.’
She couldn’t help but glance at his left hand resting on the steering wheel. No ring, no obvious tan mark. Beautiful long fingers, neatly trimmed nails, a broad palm. She shivered and looked away. This was Karl wasn’t it? The incorrigible flirt? Confirmed bachelor and man about town? This definitely didn’t go with the image.
‘It’s my sister’s car.’ He finally offered an explanation. ‘Mine wasn’t available and so I borrowed hers. She has three kids. Messy ones.’
‘Oh, nice for you.’ She clicked her seat belt into place. ‘So what kind of car do you usually drive, then?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Oh, I dunno. Some sporty thing. Fast, flash, something to wow the ladies.’
‘I don’t need to rely on a car to wow the ladies,’ he said suavely.
‘Oh, really?’ She couldn’t help laughing.
He shook his head at her, laughter lighting his eyes so they glowed, burning into her.
‘So what?’ she asked with tart humour. ‘You just rely on your dashing good looks, amazing physique, rapier-like wit and charm?’
‘D, all of the above.’ He nodded seriously.
She bet he did. He had all of those attributes in abundance.
‘Now, where are we going?’
She looked at him in confusion before realising they’d been sitting there a couple of minutes and he hadn’t started the engine yet.
‘Oh, St Katharine’s Dock, Tower Hill.’
He looked at her with raised brows, turning the key in the ignition. ‘I thought it would have been Earl’s Court or Shepherds Bush. Isn’t that where all you Kiwis and Aussies hang out?’
‘Maybe.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m not into that scene.’
‘Avoiding your country folk?’ He edged the car out of the garage and into the line of traffic.
‘No, but if I wanted to spend all my time going to antipodean pubs and hanging out with other New Zealanders I wouldn’t have bothered leaving New Zealand in the first place.’
‘Running away from something?’
‘Running to something,’ she corrected. ‘Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t like New Zealand, I love it, but I wanted to travel and experience London. It’s such a great city.’ She sighed happily.
‘So you chose St Katharine’s Dock?’ They were driving along Embankment, and she couldn’t help but enjoy the famous buildings as they slid past.
‘Yeah.’ She smiled. ‘Not in one of those amazing waterside warehouse conversions though. There’s an old estate just at the back of them. I have a teeny flat there. It’s fantastic. You know, I walk past the Tower of London every day on my way to work and every time it just hits me: I’m in London! It’s awesome.’
‘It’s really such a dream for you?’
‘Oh, yeah. It’s all those years of having to watch Coronation Street, I guess.’
‘Coronation Street?’ he echoed blankly. ‘But that’s Manchester!’
She giggled. ‘Oh, Eastenders, then, whatever. All those royal variety shows; we get them all, you know.’ She turned to look at him, wanting him to understand. ‘It’s so great here. Anything you want to do you can do in London, everything is here for the taking.’ She gestured widely with her hands.
He looked at her and smiled straight back into her eyes, and her breath caught, he had the most magnificent smile. Her heartbeat accelerated alarmingly. She looked away, hurriedly dampening the attraction raging in her.
‘You sound like such a tourist, all that fresh-eyed enthusiasm,’ he teased.
‘What’s wrong with that? It’s good to have some passion.’ Flirt alert—she willed serenity to return to her mind and body.
‘I agree. Are you as enthusiastic and passionate in other areas of life?’
She threw him a mock-evil look knowing she’d asked for that one. He grinned wickedly back at her.
She took a breath and played safe. ‘I love walking past the Tower each day, laughing at those other tourists getting ripped off by the most expensive ice-cream man in the world!’
‘Really?’ He laughed.
She nodded. ‘He has his van there by Dead Man’s Hole. The most shocking prices.’
‘Hmm. But I bet he’s not as expensive as the gelato man by Ponte Vecchio in Florence.’
‘Really? In Florence?’ She sighed longingly. ‘I didn’t make it there. I’d love to go.’
‘It’s beautiful. I’ll take you.’
She raised a brow at him, hoping her façade was as cool as her insides were hot. ‘Will you, now?’
He nodded. ‘You have to see Botticelli’s Venus. You’re a dead ringer.’
There was a silence as she absorbed the compliment. Botticelli’s masterpiece hung in the Uffizi gallery. His depiction of Venus was one of the world’s most famous works of art. Generation after generation admired the beauty of her. Lissa was amused, ‘incorrigible flirt’ was definitely the way to describe this guy. The trouble was, she couldn’t help but enjoy it.
‘Oh, you are good,’ she cooed.
He smiled back winningly. ‘And is it working?’
Yes, she thought, most definitely. ‘That’s for me to know…’ she began.
‘And for me to find out,’ he finished. ‘Good.’
What did ‘good’ mean? Had she just issued the man a challenge?
They entered St Katharine’s Dock and she directed him to her building. Part of her wanted to escape the car as quickly as possible, but a good half of her wanted to stay and explore ‘possibilities’ with Karl as Gina had suggested. Then again, he might not really be interested. He might just have been working on his ‘rapier-like wit and charm’. She glanced at him and realised he was watching her, an amused smile flitting around the corners of his mouth.
She stiffened. Had her internal debate been written all over her face? Probably. She strove for dignity. ‘Thanks very much for the ride home. It was very kind of you.’
‘No problem. It was a pleasure.’ He replied equally formally.
She undid the seat belt and opened the door, sliding out. Surprised, she saw he was mirroring her actions. He walked round to stand beside her.
‘I thought I’d see you to your door,’ he explained. ‘I wasn’t sure you could manage the stairs.’
She looked up at him, amazed. ‘Of course I can. What do you think I am? Blind drunk?’ Far from it, but she had to admit she did feel wobbly. Food, she reasoned. It was lack of food, not the proximity of the male in front of her.
‘No, but maybe a little tired.’ He laughed. It had the effect she was getting used to, making her meltingly vibrant. ‘Aren’t you?’
He was standing too close. She stood looking up at him, mesmerised as he came even closer.
‘If you’re quite sure you can manage, I’ll leave you,’ he said softly, still coming nearer.
‘Uh-huh,’ she replied, rooted to the spot. He was gorgeous. Tall, sexy, fun. She knew she should be marching straight up those stairs pronto, but she just couldn’t seem to get her legs to work. She stared up at him spellbound.
He reached out and stroked her hair gently. ‘Bye, beautiful,’ he whispered. Then he slid his hand down to the back of her neck in a loose caress, bent his head and kissed her.
It was the merest touch, light as a feather. Soft, warm, sweet, his lips just grazed hers. Then he broke the contact. She drew a sharp breath, her senses kick started and just when she knew she wanted more he returned, stealing the initiative, with full pressure. Firm, insistent, delightful. His hand cradled the back of her neck, his thumb stroking gently. Small sweeps upwards that had her softening, leaning closer, wanting yet more. She felt the weight and warmth of his other hand as it came to rest on her lower back. She wanted to touch him. She couldn’t help but kiss him back. Her mind wouldn’t focus on the fact that this was a really bad idea. It was only interested in the sensations he was stirring.
The hands she had raised in a defensive gesture didn’t push him away. Instead they slid up his chest, feeling the soft wool jumper and the hard muscle it sheathed, and reached around his neck. It was warm and smooth. He stepped closer so their bodies touched, length to length. The impact was so pleasurable she gasped. Opening her mouth to his she tasted him. Their tongues met and entwined and her mind blanked out completely. Her body reacted instinctively, her breasts tightening, tensing, her mouth softening, ripening, wanting him in. Eyes closed, she breathed in the faint lemony scent that was so heady and delicious. Her fingers curled into his hair and she held him to her. Her toes curled in her sandals and tension swelled. The magnetism, their hold, was unbreakable. The simple goodnight kiss became something much, much more.
His hands stroked down her back, pressing her against him. She loved the feel of his hard body against hers, all of it. She melted, her curves fitting to him. She worked her fingers through his hair and pressed herself against him as much as he did against her. Breathless, she trembled and gloried as he tightened his grip in answer. She felt his hands slide down over her skirt, holding her hips to his. Her bones liquefied and an almost intolerable heat washed through her. His hands stroked lower down the length of her skirt, slid under and back up her legs. His fingers encountered the top of her lace stockings and traced over and onto bare flesh. Skin on skin, incandescent. She heard him groan against her mouth as she moved her hips restlessly.
It was the alarm bell she needed. God, what was she doing? She tore her mouth from his and stepped back. Shocked and embarrassed about the ferocity of the kiss, she was unable to meet his eyes. Instead she looked across at the block of flats, begging her body to calm. She feared that if she looked at him again she would throw herself back into his arms.
He had let her pull back and said nothing, but she was aware of his deepened breathing. Her body clamoured for more of that kind of action. That had not been some chaste farewell kiss, it had been the ignition to a passion that would have led to an explosive encounter with only one conclusion. She was not about to have a one-night stand with her best mate’s friend. Especially when she knew him to be a flirt, a good-time guy. No wonder he was such a phenomenal kisser. He had plenty of experience. Attraction turned to anger, more with herself than at him. He was just doing what came natural; her response hadn’t been. No way could the depth of feeling from that one kiss be natural.
‘Goodnight,’ she muttered. She walked away from him, fossicking in her bag for her key as she climbed the stairs. It was not until she was up on the little balcony on her floor that she dared look down at him. He was leaning against the car, one leg resting over the other, his arms crossed, staring up at her. Although it was hard to tell in the gloomy light from the streetlamp nearby, she was sure he was grinning. He waved up at her casually. Agitated, she turned and miraculously got the key in the lock first time. She opened the door and slammed it behind her, not chancing another look back.
Five minutes later she tilted her head to let the hot water beat down on her neck as she showered. She couldn’t help but smile as his teasing lilt rang in her ears, couldn’t help the inner glow as she remembered his smile, couldn’t suppress the shiver as she relived that kiss.
Oh, boy.
Big mistake.
Temptation whispered in her ear. It was Karl. Gina’s friend. She didn’t work with him—it wouldn’t be an office affair. What harm could come from a fling? It had been so long. Basic, carnal lust, of lethal magnitude. Touch an element that hot and you were bound to get burns. Third degree.
