Chapter 2
HE KNEW SHE WAS going to come with him when he felt her sharp intake of breath, followed by a little tremble in her leg.
Not only was she beautiful, there was something so sensual about the woman—he’d been watching her from the moment he walked in, the way her body moved, supple and lithe, athletic yet graceful.
She was naturally slim with honey brown hair that was pulled back in a ponytail—he was itching to loosen the elastic band and run his fingers through it.
He didn’t have a ‘type’. Since the end of his marriage, he’d been with all sorts of women—there was no one beauty ideal for Raf.
For him, it came down to two things: availability and appeal.
Appeal could be anything from confidence, to grace, to an easy smile.
He knew what his brothers and cousins would say: he’d fuck anything that gave him a chance.
And maybe that was true, too. Since Marcia, he’d turned into something he’d always sworn he’d avoid: his father.
She pulled just far enough away from him to be able to see his face, her large, blue eyes latched to his, swirling with the same desire that was firing in his veins.
“I think it would be a mistake,” she surprised him by saying.
He was rarely wrong about his chances with women. Availability was his main criteria.
He moved his hand a little lower, towards her knee. Her eyes fluttered closed and her throat shifted visibly as she swallowed against her physical response to him.
“To be clear, is that a no?”
Her lips parted, eyes almost pleading with him. She wanted to go home with him; she was at war with herself.
“I—shouldn’t.”
“Are you trying to convince yourself, or me?”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Both.” Honesty was another trait he valued, though it barely mattered when he was only interested in hooking up with a woman.
But after Marcia, he loathed duplicity. She’d lied to him almost their entire relationship.
How had he been so stupid? He tightened his grip on the glass, careful not to give any hint of the dark nature of his swirling thoughts.
“Is it working?”
She closed her eyes then, her full lips parted in a way that made him ache to lean forward and kiss her.
“We just met.”
“That’s a statement of fact, not an argument.”
Her lips twisted. “To me, it’s both,” she said slowly, the words laced with clear regret.
Then, she surprised him for the second time in as many minutes by standing up, dislodging his hand.
But because of the way his body was arranged, she only came closer to him, his legs forming a perfect frame on either side.
“I have no doubt I’m going to regret this tomorrow,” she muttered. “But I suspect I’m nothing like the kind of woman you usually hit on. You’d be bound to be disappointed anyway.”
She reached backwards then, moving her stool so she could sidestep him, skirting around behind the bar. “My shift is done,” she said, when in the safety of her workspace once more. “Nice meeting you, Raf.”
She’d been right. The next morning, she’d been kicking herself for turning him down. Particularly when she’d seen the text message from Aaron.
So, you didn’t call and I kind of need an answer ASAP. I’ve got an audition in London next week for this great part, but it’s over three days. Any chance I can stay with you? I can’t really stretch to the expense of accom right now…
She read the message with a sense of abject disbelief and fury, almost tempted to take it out on her phone by hurtling it across the room and into the wall.
That was just so like Aaron. Take, take, take.
Want, want, want. How dare he think he had any right to ask her for a damned thing, after all he’d put her through?
She supposed it was the perfect storm, then.
Her disappointment at the night she could have had with some hot Italian guy, her anger at Aaron, and then, twelve hours later, right at the end of her shift, when that same scorching hot man walked into the bar, eyes latched directly to hers with a silent invitation swirling in their depths.
Uncertainty had her pulse racing, her mind firing, her insides twisting.
She’d never done anything like this before, but what did that matter?
All her life she’d put one foot after the other, doing the ‘right’ thing.
Being the good girl her parents expected her to be, the perfect girlfriend, the dutiful employee.
And what had it gotten her? Nothing. She was twenty-six years old with no clue where she was going in life, living in her cousin’s apartment because she didn’t have enough money for a bond deposit on her own.
Everything was already a big fat mess, what was one more mistake, anyway?
“I’m just finishing my shift,” she murmured, when he approached, anticipation and desire making her voice raspy. “Did you want a drink?”
His eyes were locked to hers. Slowly, he shook his head. “I didn’t come here for a drink.”
She tried to swallow but there was a lump in her throat. She couldn’t think of what to say to that, so she just stared at him.
“Did you wake up and wish you’d spent the night with me?”
It was a fork in the road. Her chance to demur, and tell him she hadn’t regretted her decision at all. But Elodie nodded instead. “Yes.”
His eyes flared in obvious appreciation of her honesty. “Care to do something about it?”
Her heart twisted in her chest. She hadn’t expected to see him again, and she had spent the better part of the day metaphorically kicking herself for turning down his invitation. No way was she going to do that again.
“Absolutely,” she murmured. “Just let me get my bag. I can meet you outside…”
He nodded. “My car’s out the front.”
Was this stupid? Probably. She was about to go home with some guy she barely knew, and yet she wasn’t remotely worried about her safety. Then again, she didn’t secretly have a death wish. In the kitchen, she cornered Allegra.
“That guy, from last night.”
Allegra stared at her blankly.
“The VIP?”
“Oh, Rafaello. Yeah, what about him?”
Rafaello. She liked the sound of his full name even more.
“Serial killer? Axe murderer? Rapist?”
Allegra laughed. “Not that I know of.”
She twisted her fingers around in front of her. “Would it be a mistake to…” her cheeks flushed bright pink as she let the sentence trail off into thin air.
Allegra’s eyes widened as comprehension dawned. “God, no. I reckon he’d be amazing in the sack. But a word of warning: he hooks up with more women than you’ve probably worn hats. Don’t go catching feelings for him or anything—he’s not that kind of guy.”
“Duly noted,” Elodie agreed with a sharp throb of excitement. No strings sex was just exactly what she needed. She just hoped Allegra was right and that he’d be good in bed—she had a lot of lost time to make up for.
It had been apparent from the moment he entered the bar the night before that he was wealthy.
His suit, shoes, and watch were all dead giveaways, but more than that, it was his bearing.
He held himself like a man who had the world at his feet.
When they stepped out into the balmy London evening, the sky only just losing its dusky lustre, it was to see a sleek black Bentley with darkly tinted windows parked on a double yellow line, a man in a suit standing by the rear door.
As they approached, the man opened the door with a deferential nod.
A flashy car and a driver. Definitely loaded.
It only added to the butterflies rampaging through her stomach, and the feeling that she was getting in way over her head. Then again, what did money matter? She wasn’t looking to date the guy. This was a one-night thing, nothing more. Money was beside the point.
The interior of the car was just as she might have imagined, all butter-soft leather and soft mood lighting.
She slipped across to the far side of the seat, eyes trained on the door as Raf stepped into the car and took the seat beside her.
His eyes shifted to hers as the driver closed the door and her pulse kicked up a notch.
In the bar, he’d been impressive enough but in the confines of the car, he seemed to take up every bit of space, making it hard to breathe.
In her old life, her old job, Elodie had been the face of a well-regarded estate agency.
She’d had to deal with all sorts of clients, and that included making small talk until their appointments.
She was good at small talk, generally able to pluck a thread of conversation from the recesses of her brain and use it to spark a conversation.
But in the back of this Bentley, with a hint of this man’s subtle cologne teasing her senses, her mind was drawing a complete and utter blank.
“Are you nervous?”
His question was softly voiced, but there was something beneath it.
Amusement? Mockery? She ground her teeth against either.
She felt as though the whole world had been laughing at her when her engagement had ended.
At least, the whole world she cared about.
Everyone they knew had had to be uninvited to the wedding owing to a ‘change in circumstances’.
Code for: we’re over. She had hated the feeling of people mocking her then, and she hated the feeling now.
“I’m fine,” she said, defiance in the words.
He arched a brow, leaning forward a little. She kept her eyes latched to his, even when her heart was racing so hard and fast in her chest it felt borderline dangerous.
“You don’t do this kind of thing.”
“No.” What was the point in lying about that?
“Why not?”