Chapter 20
It was Ben. She’d recognize the deep timbre of his voice anywhere. The huskiness was threaded with a note of concern.
He peered through the dark garden, his face in shadow.
She’d longed to be alone with him. But not right now.
She huddled further back under the arbour.
Too late. He’d seen her and slipped through the gate, towards her.
He was in front of her now, and she took a shaky breath, and inhaled citrus and sandalwood, a hint of musk and sweat.
‘I saw you disappear. Just checking you’re all right.’ Just then, the moon emerged from a cloud and lit up the planes of his face, casting shadows under his strong brows and sharp cheekbones.
‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks – just needed a breather.’
‘Can I sit?’ He gestured towards the bench and she shifted to make room for him.
He squeezed next to her; she was aware of his muscular thigh, pressing against hers. His heat was like a furnace through the fabric of her trousers.
He cleared his throat. ‘Fabulous party. Well done.’
She wished he’d stop being so nice to her. It was hard to stay detached and professional when he was being so sweet and supportive.
He took Sasha’s hand, making her jump as he pressed her fingers lightly.
She should snatch her hand away. But it felt warm.
Comforting. Just like the moment when he’d steadied her wrist over the shifting teacups.
She’d known right there and then that she could trust him to catch her if she fell. Just as he had that day on the common.
‘Sasha. It’s good to see you alone.’ His voice was throaty. Had he caught a cold? He carried her hand up towards his lips, turned it and pressed a kiss on her palm.
Soft. Intimate. Almost shocking.
Their fingers intertwined, drawn together like magnets. She stared at their hands in the moonlight. His strong fingers held hers tightly.
The atmosphere felt tangible, as if every molecule in the air was denser than before.
She was conscious of each breath. The air rushing in through her nostrils, filling her lungs.
This moment would stay with her for ever.
The moonlight. The garden. Ben next to her, holding her hand as if he’d never let it go.
The intensity of her emotions made her feel light-headed and jittery. She was trembling. Feeling their intertwined fingers, his thumb circling her palm, she wished she could sink into his warm body. Lean on him, burrow into his chest.
Instead, she tried to pretend it was nothing.
She stared at the pots of tulips, lit silver by moonlight, and attempted to speak.
‘Having a . . .’ Sasha’s voice caught in her throat.
She took a sharp intake of air and swallowed.
‘Having a good time?’ Her words sounded too loud, too bright.
Fake. Her hand felt awkward in his suddenly and she tried to snatch it away.
But his fingers hooked into hers, holding them securely.
‘Everyone’s having a great time. You should be proud.’
She stretched her lips wide, attempting a smile. ‘That’ll be you one day – celebrating your true love.’
‘Really?’ His tone was intimate. As if she was telling a joke for his ears only.
She nodded. ‘Of course!’ He’d got the wrong end of the stick. This thing between them – it was nothing. It couldn’t be anything. ‘Once we carry on with the matcha reading it’ll tell us who’s your match.’
‘OK, if you say so.’ His eyes gleamed in amusement, as if he’d caught her out.
She let go of his hand and stood up. She had to put some distance between them.
She was lying to herself, and he knew it.
She had to hide her real emotions and feelings.
‘Too intense’ – her ex’s words haunted her.
This was exactly what Dominic had meant.
She might not emote as loudly as Klara with her dramatics, but she felt everything too fiercely, in a way not everyone could understand.
The moonlight bathing the trees. The scent of the early roses. A delicious breeze tickling her face. She shivered with pleasure.
‘You’re cold.’ Ben stood too. He faced her and placed his hands on her arms, under the silk of her sleeves. She shivered again, this time from the warmth of his palms on her bare skin. He started rubbing his hands up and down her arms, briskly. She trembled from the effort of holding herself back.
‘Is that better? Is it OK to touch you like this?’ He relaxed his hands as if about to withdraw them.
‘Yes. Please. Don’t . . . don’t stop,’ she whispered. She wanted to lean forward, throw herself onto his chest. Heat was building in her body, rushing up to her face.
His hands continued moving up and down her arms. Gradually they slowed. The brisk rubbing turned into slow stroking movements. She sighed with pleasure, but she couldn’t stop shaking.
He stopped stroking and for a brief second she felt empty, missing his hands on her skin. And then he stepped closer and engulfed her with his body, hugging her to his chest so his heat warmed her.
A small sound escaped her throat.
‘Better?’ His voice buzzed low in her ear.
‘Yes. Much.’ Her voice wouldn’t go above a whisper.
He pulled her tight, tucking her snug against his chest. ‘Warm enough?’
She nodded. Finally, she could lean on him, feeling hard muscle covered by soft linen. She never wanted to leave. She could smell sandalwood, a hint of musk and him. If she died now, she would die happy.
‘Sasha,’ he breathed, lowering his face towards hers. A kiss light as a butterfly landed on her hair. She tilted her face up.
A beam of moonlight caught the gleam in his eyes. Her breath snagged in her throat as, slowly, very slowly, his lips brushed hers.
He made a soft sound, like a question. Is this OK?
She murmured her assent. Yes.
Magnetized, they drew together, exchanging butterfly-soft kisses. Finally, their lips opened to each other. Sasha tasted chocolate, champagne and strawberries. She felt a sliding warmth as their tongues met. Delicious.
Her heart was racing. Her hands were on his chest, grabbing handfuls of soft linen, yearning to feel his skin.
Soon her palms were roaming under his shirt, feeling his muscles, a light scattering of fur, those washboard abs, then grabbing at his back as their kisses deepened.
Soft, warm, exploring kisses. He clamped her close, a hand cupping the back of her neck.
The door to the courtyard squeaked open. ‘Sasha? Are you here? People are leaving!’ It was Klara.
Sasha jolted forward, pushing Ben away, towards the shadows of the arbour. She hurried towards the gate.
‘Oh, you’re here,’ said Klara. ‘Wondered where you’d gone. Mollie and Paloma are leaving – they wanted to say goodbye.’
‘Sorry – just catching my breath for a few minutes. It was so hot in there.’
‘Are you OK?’ Klara peered at her closely.
‘Yes, fine!’ Sasha linked arms with her friend, her heart racing. She dragged her inside before Klara noticed that Ben was in the garden too. If Klara knew they’d been kissing, she would never hear the end of it.
Back in the café, Mollie and Paloma had their coats on, drawing out their final goodbyes.
‘Darling Sasha –’ Mollie took her hand – ‘how can we ever thank you?’ She was tipsy and emotional and Paloma hung onto her tightly.
Sasha wondered if someone would hold her just as securely one day.
Maybe he already has.
‘Thanks, Sasha.’ Paloma handed her an envelope. ‘Just an extra something for yourself and Annie.’
‘Aw – there’s no need.’ Sasha tried to push it back.
‘Please, take it. You’ve all worked so hard tonight. Our guests were truly spoiled.’
Had she been outside that long? Casey and Leo had stopped playing. Guests were putting on their coats and saying goodnight.
Sasha helped people find their coats and jackets. Then she grabbed a bin bag and began tidying up.
She soon became aware of Ben threading his way through the thinning crowd towards her. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ he murmured. His hand curled towards hers as if they were connected, but she moved back, breaking an invisible thread.
‘No – please don’t worry – it’s all under control.’ Her smile was polite but distant. She couldn’t face people seeing how she really felt.
‘Ah, Ben!’ Mollie grabbed him and hugged him tightly. ‘Thank you so much for coming tonight – just know that you’re in safe hands with dear Sasha’s matcha readings. I hope you’ll invite us to your anniversary one day.’
Mollie and Paloma finally left, waving and blowing kisses to all. Mr Davis hugged Sasha goodbye and he and Chloé helped Gloria into a cab.
Sasha felt the burn of Ben’s gaze, trying to catch her eye.
She deliberately didn’t look his way. How could she have forgotten he was her newest client?
Had they really kissed, just now in the garden?
Her lips burned, remembering his mouth on hers and a pulse throbbed between her legs.
It had felt so good to be held by him. She’d felt taken care of.
Secure. Heat travelled up to her chest and face.
But this was wrong. For a few moments, Por Por’s guidance had slipped her mind.
Ben had agreed to let her help him find his match.
He was relying on her as a matchmaking professional.
This attraction between them wasn’t real.
She’d let him get too close to her. She’d been feeling vulnerable with everything that had been going on with the lease.
She’d forgotten that Ben had also moved here to get away from something.
Ben was at a vulnerable stage of his life. It was totally out of order to fall for a client. This transference – whatever it was – she had to nip it in the bud. What had just happened in the garden must never happen again.
Ben followed Sasha into the hall of her flat, where she checked to see if there were any remaining coats. She needed to find the owner of a purple velvet scarf. She put on a fake smile. ‘I don’t know who this belongs to – possibly Gloria, she loves to wear purple.’
He tried to take her hand and she backed away, whispering, ‘No – please, Ben – we mustn’t. Not now.’
In the café, Klara and Nathan were sitting by the counter with a bottle of champagne. Casey and Leo were packing up their instruments. ‘Mollie and Paloma said we could have the leftovers.’ Klara waved a couple more bottles. ‘After-party upstairs? Ben – you coming?’
‘Er . . .’ Ben glanced at Sasha, a question in his smile. She grinned back nervously. It probably wasn’t a good idea, but in that moment, she couldn’t think of what to say to Klara.
‘Come on then – grab a bottle, everyone – back to Sasha’s,’ said Klara. She was on a mission, collecting a few half-drunk bottles as well as the last remaining full one. She passed the two musicians. ‘Casey, coming? And I suppose Leo?’
‘Is that an invitation?’ Leo muttered.
‘What, are you waiting for me to lay out a red carpet?’ Klara huffed, gathering her wrap, picking up her sequinned purse and sashaying out to the flat.
Sasha didn’t have too much to do as the caterers had helped clear up. ‘I’ll be up in a minute – you guys go first.’
She locked up and set the alarm.
Her heart was thudding in trepidation. She mustn’t forget Por Por’s warning. Ben was her client. There must be no more kisses.