Chapter Twenty-Eight
‘There you are!’ exclaimed Rosie. ‘I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.’
‘Just business,’ replied Connor tersely. He grabbed another glass from a circulating waiter and took several large gulps.
‘Everything okay?’ asked Ryan.
‘Nothing I can’t handle.’
Rosie wondered what this “business” was.
Whatever it was, it had certainly put him in a funny mood, but she wasn’t unduly concerned; she had seen this version of Connor Forbes before and knew it was best to simply ignore the comments.
Rosie had noticed several people already holding plates of food, and she tucked her hand under Connor’s arm.
‘Come on, let’s eat. I’m dying to see what posh people have at parties. ’
The food was laid out in another room. This one was also ornately decorated, with high ceilings full of decorative plasterwork, and a gold painted ceiling rose.
The table in the centre was covered with a heavy white damask tablecloth and would have easily seated twenty people, but this evening the chairs were all lined up along the wall to allow guests to access the buffet.
Individual silver dishes gleamed in the soft lighting and each had its own set of silver serving implements.
Rosie’s experience of parties was mainly based around student parties from her days in college, or parties at Emma’s house.
In both situations fingers doubled as serving implements for the sausage rolls, sandwiches and other party nibbles.
This looked far more interesting, and she was keen to sample everything.
In the centre were several platters each holding a large dressed salmon, but there were all manner of colourful salad dishes, meat platters, dishes of quails eggs, crab cakes with lime and dill mayonnaise, crispy prawns with a chilli dip, a huge variety of blinis, Indian samosas – it went on and on.
Rosie took tiny amounts of everything and still had trouble balancing it all on her plate without looking greedy.
In contrast, Connor had virtually nothing on his plate and picked at less than half of it, which wasn’t like him.
If Rosie had expected to see the celebrity version of Connor Forbes this evening, he wasn’t much in evidence.
She, on the other hand, had talked to all sorts of interesting people including the daughter of a baronet, the managing director of a French food wholesaler, and one of last year’s contestants from Love Island.
She obviously had to pretend she knew all about it, having come to the conclusion much earlier in the evening that most people seemed to blag their way through these things anyway.
Simon would be well impressed with the guest list but Connor seemed less so, and by eleven they were heading back to the hotel Rosie had pre-booked to avoid a drive back late at night.
Despite asking for a twin room, she found as she pushed open the door that it was a double.
‘No problem, I can take the sofa,’ said Connor carrying in his overnight case and locking the door behind him.
‘And where’s that then?’ asked Rosie. ‘I know you’re more used to having a suite, but my finances don’t stretch that far, so tonight you’ll have to lump it. Tell you what, you can pick which side you want.’
Connor sat down on the bed and dropped his head in his hands.
Rosie switched on the bedside light, then sat down next to him. ‘Are you feeling ill? Do I need to fetch you a bucket? I’ve had experience of this, you know.’
Connor raised his head and gave her a sad smile. ‘Always remember the good times, Florence. It’s important. Because they’re gone before you know it.’
Before Rosie could ask what he meant, he placed his hands gently around her face and kissed the tip of her nose, and then each cheek.
He looked at her hesitantly, diffidently almost. Rosie smiled.
And finally, he took her in his arms like he had that cold December afternoon and kissed her fiercely and passionately.
His lips were warm and sensual, and Rosie responded joyfully.
Her head was swimming; it was like being drunk, but nothing whatsoever to do with the champagne and everything to do with the man who had his arms tight around her, and whose lips were now caressing her lips and her neck, and sending shards of pleasure pulsing through her body.
‘I’m sorry,’ Connor murmured in her ear. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this. I’ll sleep in the car.’ He gently released her and tried to move away, but Rosie grabbed his arm and pulled him back down next to her.
‘You will do no such thing.’ Rosie leaned over until their heads were almost touching.
They sat like that for several seconds, her hand still on his arm.
Then slowly, carefully, she reached out and undid the top button on his shirt.
She paused only for a brief second before undoing the next, and the next, continuing until his toned torso was fully revealed.
Connor made an amused noise. ‘Are you seducing me, Florence?’
Rosie tried, and failed, to prevent a smile escaping. ‘You promised me a celebrity experience.’ She trailed her fingers across his warm chest. ‘I’m just making sure I get my money’s worth.’