Chapter 1
AT THE END OF a hectic shift in one of London’s most hard-to-get-into bars, all Elodie could think of was getting back to the small flat she was subletting from her cousin, and running a deep, hot bath.
Her feet were killing her—a consequence of wearing shoes that were a half size too small, because they’d been the last ones she could get on sale—and a customer had spilled half a glass of red wine on the long sleeve of her white blouse, so she’d been followed by the faint smell of alcohol all evening.
Occupational hazard, she supposed, of working in a bar.
As busy as it had been, though, it wasn’t the work that had left her feeling exhausted, so much as the text message she’d seen waiting on her phone during her dinner break.
Ellie, I miss you. Can we talk?
Fuck you, she’d wanted to rage type back to her bastard of an ex-fiancé. Fuck you for dumping me six weeks before our wedding, two days after the invitations were sent out to every single person we know.
It might have been three months ago, but that didn’t take the sting out of what Aaron had done.
At twenty six, she’d thought her life was on track.
Sure, she’d been putting off going to university because her full-time income was being used to support Aaron’s acting ambitions, and sure, they’d been engaged for four years before he’d agreed to set the date, but it had all made sense at the time.
Every reason he’d given for waiting to firm up their plans, every conversation that they’d had about the wedding, and their future family, had left her with no doubts that they were on the same page with what they wanted in life.
Each other.
“Hello, earth to Elodie.” She blinked, coming back into the present with a grimace, to find her manager Allegra staring at her. “You were a billion miles away.”
“Did you need something?” She felt the heat staining her cheeks and wished she wasn’t so prone to blushing.
“VIP just walked in and I’m desperate for a smoke. Would you mind? The guy’s a regular—and a huge tipper.”
“Sure, of course. Where?”
Allegra gestured with a nod of her head to the other end of the bar, where a man—who was the very definition of tall, dark and dangerously handsome—was striding towards a stool.
He wore a dark grey suit and powder white shirt, and shoes that looked as though they were definitely bespoke.
His watch was gold, and Elodie would have put her last pound on it being one of those ridiculously expensive Swiss things, the kind that tennis stars usually promoted.
“Thanks, hon. You’re a lifesaver.” Allegra blew a kiss as she weaved through the crowd, towards the door that led to the kitchens.
While Elodie’s shift was due to end in fifteen minutes, she didn’t mind staying later if the guy really was a great tipper.
Lord knew she could use the money. Another function of Aaron’s terrible timing was that Elodie had placed down payments on pretty much everything for their wedding, and in some instances was still having to pay for the entire service they’d never ended up using.
Fuck you, she mentally rage-texted again, knowing she’d send something slightly less profane but no less final.
She needed to cut the cord with Aaron once and for all.
But even as she thought that, and knew it was the best thing for her, she felt a rush of grief.
They’d known each other a long time. Loved each other a long time.
The loss of his friendship and companionship, apart from anything else, really hurt.
The whole future she’d imagined for them, the life she’d thought they would lead, it had all just… evaporated.
“Hey,” she said as she approached the guy, glad she hadn’t attempted a longer greeting because up close, there was something about him that completely took her breath away.
His face was a study in chiselled perfection, from his cheekbones to his jawline, and everything in between.
His brows were thick and dark, his eyes a sort of green, rimmed in thick, dark lashes, and his complexion was a deep golden tan, as though he’d spent the summer floating around the Med on a yacht.
Which reminded her of the honeymoon she and Aaron were supposed to have taken, to a villa in Italy—yet another expense she hadn’t been able to recoup.
“Hey back at you,” he said, his voice the embodiment of his good looks.
Deep, raw and accented, it was enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
She’d been attracted to other men, over the years.
There was nothing wrong with seeing a man and thinking he was handsome.
In fact, it was ridiculous to pretend you didn’t notice when someone was attractive.
The important thing was not acting on it—which she never had.
Elodie would never, ever have cheated on Aaron, and as far as she knew, that had gone both ways.
It had been her first thought, when he’d broken off their engagement.
Maybe she would have felt better, if someone else had been in the frame.
But no. It had simply been that he’d fallen out of love with her.
That he hadn’t known how to tell her, even though he’d been having doubts for ‘a while’.
Instead, he’d let her carry on like a fool, planning their wedding, talking to their friends about it, running headlong into the life she thought they both wanted.
Acid burned the back of her throat; she swallowed hard.
“What can I get for you?”
“Macallan, neat.”
Of course. Only top shelf for this guy. She turned around and retrieved the bottle from the bar, pouring a single measure then offering a smile.
“What’s your name?”
Elodie lifted a hand to the starched collar of her blouse and ran a finger over it in a gesture of nervousness. He was probably used to having that effect on women.
“Elodie,” she said after a beat, wondering why it seemed as though telling him something as banal as her name felt like crossing an invisible line. “And yours?”
Surprise briefly flashed on his features but it barely registered for Elodie.
“Raf.” Like her, he didn’t offer a last name, and she didn’t need one.
He was just a customer in the bar, probably here to meet up with friends, or a date.
The thought had her sobering, boxing away the spark of attraction she was feeling.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” she said, as he lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip, his eyes narrowing slightly before raking over her face and then, briefly, dropping lower, to her body, so a rush of heat flooded her system, despite her best efforts to control it.
“I haven’t seen you here before.”
“Should you have?”
“I come in often enough.”
“Well, I haven’t seen you here either.”
It wasn’t this guy’s fault that her ex-fiancé had reared his ugly head that afternoon.
She shouldn’t be taking her irritation with the whole male species out on him, particularly not when he’d been flagged by Allegra as a VIP.
Then again, there was something in his eyes that told her he didn’t mind.
In fact, maybe that he was even looking for this kind of interaction, rather than the deferential treatment he no doubt always received.
“At least, not that I remember,” she added, a quick smile flicking across her lips. Because if she’d seen him here before, she would definitely have noticed, and remembered. He was the definition of unforgettable, with that chiselled face and broad shoulders. Like some kind of billionaire pin up.
At the collar of his crisp, white shirt, she could just make out the hint of a tattoo, and before she could stop herself, she started to wonder about it. What would a man like this have inked across his chest?
“I would have remembered you.” He’d called her bluff and somehow, it took all the air out of her lungs. Just hearing him say that was like the lighting of a match, as though he were admitting that he found her attractive.
It wasn’t that she was insecure about her looks—she’d had enough guys hit on her to know she got noticed—but she’d been in a long, comfortable relationship for almost a decade.
She couldn’t remember the last time Aaron had looked at her and told her she was beautiful, or complimented her outfit, or hair, or anything.
Up until a moment ago, she would have said she didn’t need that kind of external validation, but hearing the hint of praise from him did something to her insides.
“I’ve only been here a fortnight,” she murmured, swallowing hard at the raw quality to her voice—and what she feared it revealed.
How could she be affected by some customer she’d literally just met?
His smirk was knowing though, as his hands curled around the fine crystal glass, his fingers long and tanned. He didn’t take his eyes off hers and the strength of his gaze was like a caress. “Do you like it?”
It took her a second to work out what he was asking.
“Sure,” she husked. Then, because he was still staring into her eyes and it was making her nervous, and a thousand other things, she continued, “I mean, it’s not the job of my dreams or anything, but—,”
“What is?” he interrupted.
How could she answer that? When she’d left school, she’d planned on coming to London to study business, but then, Aaron had got a part in a small play just off West End, and they’d needed Elodie’s income to supplement his.
What had started as a temporary summer job working as a receptionist in an estate agency had turned into eight years of full-time work.
She hadn’t hated it. In fact, she’d liked her team, the people she saw each day, and the steady income had meant Aaron could audition and Elodie could save for the wedding.
Bitterness twisted through her. “I don’t know,” she said, honestly.
“So you’re working here while you figure it out?”