Ripped (Miller Sisters 1)

‘It’s a surprise.’

‘After that disastrous wedding I’ve gone off surprises. I prefer to know what’s going to happen so I can prepare for it.’

His mouth flickered at the corners. ‘We’re going to the bedroom. I don’t want you to get cold.’

Cold? Was he kidding? I was so hot that if he’d put a slice of bread on me I could have turned it into toast.

But it was evidence he didn’t intend to end the evening yet, so I wasn’t about to argue with his reasoning. And anyway, if I was honest, I was enjoying the cuddle.

I tore my greedy gaze away from the strong lines of his jaw to take a glimpse of his apartment. ‘It’s amazing. The view is incredible.’

He lowered me to the floor and I saw that his bedroom was dominated by—well, the bed. It was slightly raised and positioned to take advantage of the incredible views. Not that I expected to be looking at anything except him.

I pressed my lips to his shoulder. His skin was salty with sweat and he cupped my face in his hands and took my mouth with his. He coaxed my lips apart and kissed me and I was instantly desperate again.

I’d expected him to pull me onto the bed, but instead he took my hand and walked with me towards the window. I resisted.

‘You really are an exhibitionist,’ I began, but then he opened the glass door and I saw that there, on the deck with a perfect view of the River Thames snaking towards the city, was a hot tub.

‘Pin your hair back up.’

It was freezing outside, snow still floating down like confetti, but he pulled off the cover and we slid into the hot water and honestly, it was the most delicious thing ever.

The guy knew how to live, I had to give him that. The heat seeped into my limbs and soothed. The scent was blissful.

Now I understood why he’d told me to pin my hair up. ‘I love this part of London. Have you always lived here?’

‘No.’ Something about the way he said it made me glance at him, but his gaze was on my mouth and suddenly I didn’t care if he’d lived here for five minutes or five years. We were both on a little seat under the water, my thigh pressed against the hardness of his. Far beneath us London was carrying on as normal, oblivious to our presence, and I wondered how the city could be oblivious to the amazing thing that was happening between us.

‘It’s a fantastic apartment. Where does Kiara live?’

‘She lived here with me until a year ago when she started college. Now she rents somewhere with two friends. She wanted her independence.’

I was surprised he’d lived with his sister. This place had ‘bachelor’ written all over it. Perhaps she’d only moved in briefly. ‘How long did she live with you?’

‘Since she was twelve.’ His voice didn’t change, but still I sensed something different. Something complicated. I’d grown up with complicated, so I probably had sensitive radar. And I was good enough with numbers to work out that he must have taken on that responsibility at a young age.

‘No family?’

‘Just the two of us. How long have you and Rosie lived together?’ He was changing the subject, but I didn’t mind. I wasn’t usually mad keen on talking about family either, but for some reason right now, with him, it felt comfortable.

‘Pretty much all our lives.’ I leaned my head back and gazed up at the sky. Snow was still falling, light, feathery flakes that dusted my hair and his. I skimmed my hand over the surface of the water, watching as they melted. ‘There’s only ten months between us. We shared a room when we were growing up. They almost split us up, but we objected.’

‘Split you up?’

‘Dad walked out when we were eight. They fought over who was going to have us. All a bit crap if I’m honest. They thought it would make sense if each parent had one of us, but that didn’t make any sense at all to us.’ Rosie had once said it was like being the rope in a tug of war, but I didn’t tell him that. Nor did I tell him about the time Rosie had hung on to me like a barnacle while Dad had tried to pull her away from me and carry her to the car. In the end he’d given up. They’d never tried to split us up again, but Rosie had insisted on switching her ballet classes to karate just in case.

‘Hence the “friend Christmas”?’

‘Rosie likes to create her version of the fairy tale.’

‘Your sister is very generous. She invited half of London for Christmas lunch.’

‘Friends are our family.’ I slid deeper under the water. ‘What would you have done for Christmas if you hadn’t come to us?’

‘Worked.’

‘So I distracted you. Sorry about that.’ My voice was smoky soft and he gave a mocking smile.