Chapter Sixteen #2
‘Impressive.’ Emme still couldn’t take her eyes off the man she wanted to get back to. He was throwing his head back in laughter.
‘And one of the sisters is going out with him?’ She nodded back towards him. Cat didn’t answer.
Emme watched him run his fingers through his hair.
‘Is he from a local family?’ She had guessed from his accent he wasn’t.
‘No he’s South African. Mummy owns a huge vineyard outside of Cape Town.
Du Kok Estate supplies most of the hotels and restaurants around here, he mostly imports his own stuff of course.
Makes a killing …’ Cat trailed off as she narrowed her eyes and pondered him.
‘Really Emme, of all the guys in this place, he is not the one to turn your attention to.’ Cat put a kind hand on Emme’s arm, sensing her budding obsession.
‘Oh I know that already!’ Emme laughed her off, trying not to show what she was feeling inside.
The smash of a glass distracted them – coming from the group of ski instructors, and most of the people in the bar glanced over quickly to see what had happened.
‘Whey!’ cheered the debauched group.
‘He is gonna regret that in the morning!’ Cat said to Tiago, motioning to the instructor drinking beer from his own ski boot.
Emme was still looking at Tristan.
Cat and Emme soon got through their bottle of wine and Emme bought another, sobering up slightly when it came to tap and pay for it. She’d have to slow down on drinking at these prices. Or do what Cat said she did mostly, and let foolish foppish tourists chat her up and buy her drinks.
The covers band – The Cheeky Blinders – played the opening notes of ‘Mr Brightside’ and Cat led Emme to the dancefloor.
Emme was feeling hot and heady, now in just her white V-neck tee and jeans, as they danced with other revellers – more tourists, more workers arriving after their shifts and greeting Cat with a kiss or a slap on the back.
Emme was having a great night. And as she danced she felt the gravitational pull of Tristan Du Kok, still drinking with his group between the edge of the dancefloor and the bar.
Surveying the room from his cocksure stance.
Emme raised her arms, she felt giddy. She had the sensation of someone watching her, of her performing; the wine and the newness of the place giving her false confidence.
As if he’d be interested in me!
Emme almost scoffed to herself.
I need water.
Any reason to get closer.
She left Cat dancing to a Lady Gaga cover and squeezed through the now-packed bar, deliberately taking the path that would bring her closest to Tristan Du Kok.
‘Excuse me,’ Emme smiled as she made her way through.
You’re so ridiculous, she thought to herself.
He’s so fucking hot.
She thought about his huge cock and how beautiful he looked in his boxers, ripped, panicking and laughing.
How many times had he had sex today, she wondered, as she caught his eye.
He smiled. She gave a small smile back, slightly embarrassed that he might read her thoughts.
She wanted to put her face into his neck as she passed him.
Or would she smell the scent of yet another woman’s legs wrapped around him?
Tristan made way and created a pathway for Emme with his arm, letting her through to the bar, her hot arm brushing his shirt. Shots tingled through her skin, all the way to her chest. She felt sensational. Did he recognise her? From the knowing look in his eye, yes.
The gall of him.
Emme nodded briefly as she passed him, and he held her eye.
The gall of me, she thought, mischievously.
Deep breath.
‘Good evening,’ he said, seemingly having broken away from the conversation he was in. Rude.
‘Evening,’ Emme replied, as they locked eyes.
Urgh, he does this all the time!
‘Quite the spot of bother you were in earlier,’ Emme said, falling into her own trap.
He leaned in and smiled.
‘I saw you, spying on me.’
Emme flushed red.
‘I was not!’ she protested. He leaned closer.
‘Wanted to join in?’
The arrogance of the man. Emme felt both outraged and utterly transparent.
‘Oh please! You’re so disrespectful.’
It annoyed Emme. He annoyed Emme. She could see why women were climbing over balconies for him and that’s what pissed her off the most.
The man held his hands up in submission and smiled. Such a sexy smile, he was ridiculous.
‘Sorry, you just seemed a little …’
‘A little what?’ Emme challenged him, almost aggressively.
Tristan pondered and settled on a word.
‘Enchanted.’
‘Enchanted? Get over yourself! I was trying to work out how to tell both those women what a creep you are!’
Tristan threw back his head and laughed. His eyes crinkling at their sun-kissed corners.
‘I can’t buy you a drink then?’
Emme levelled him with a look.
He’s taking the piss out of me!
Of course he was. This tall, beautiful man who smelled of cedar, citrus and sex was taking the piss out of her, just a girl from Surrey in jeans and a white T-shirt, nothing special.
Not a long-limbed glamazon in a thong. She didn’t even wear thongs, she wore regular M&S knickers or big booty SKIMS because that’s what felt most comfortable.
‘I got it,’ Emme replied snarkily, leaning over the bar and asking Cat’s friend Carla for a glass of tap water, and hoping Tristan Du Kok, with his bottle of Dom Perignon and his massive hard cock, couldn’t hear.