Minding Amy

He gazed across at Amy, counting his lucky stars. Waking up with her that morning had been idyllic. He'd pulled her into his arms and toyed with her while he tempted her to breakfast suggestions from his kitchen. It had been a perfect day, he'd started it with Amy and he would end it with her. That was good. In between, he'd seen to his other duties and he'd gleaned some information about Quentin that might be of assistance. He was a content man. Almost. There were those niggling doubts about her case and his interaction with it.

"Are we all set for our journey north?" He attempted to focus on their business attachment for a moment.

"Yes, the room is booked and I'm pleased to say the budget stretched to two nights in a superior room." She gave a naughty smile." That means it's a king size bed."

"Excellent, I can hardly wait."

"We can head off on Wednesday morning. I have to pull together some copy for my usual column tomorrow, but after I've seen to that, I'm all done. I've cleared my diary until Monday, which gives me plenty of time to work on the Quentin Edward's feature….and enjoy you some more."

Sebastian tried to concentrate on what he was going to ask her, but she was being purposefully provocative and it was making it hard to think of anything but her.

"What was that guy at the studio like? Jake, wasn't it?" He tried to ask the question as casually as possible.

"He looks like a weasel." She pouted and squinted at him in an attempt at an impersonation.

He chuckled at her efforts. "But you didn't hold that against him?"

"No, actually he was really chatty and helpful. He insists Quentin got into the occult stuff after Hammer House. It got him worried that the fans would go off Quentin and the show if they knew the sort of weird stuff he was into now." She shrugged. "This place in Yorkshire, Tall Gables, he reckons Quentin told the crew he'd go back there one day."

Sebastian nodded. He'd really have to go and meet this person Jake for himself. "Not afraid of the Tall Gables ghost? This one is supposed to be real."

"Not with you around." She chuckled.

The sound of it made him unaccountably content. Her eyes were dark with humor and passion and secret thoughts, and he wanted to know what those secrets were. "What are you thinking?"

"I was thinking you should escort me home, soon...because I want you."

The way she stated it so matter-of-factly stunned him. He swore under his breath and cleared his throat. "Escorting you home sounds good to me."

He drained his coffee cup and called for the bill.

Moments later they were on their way out of the restaurant, headed for a taxi. He'd been ready to take her home, but the mischief in her mood stimulated something else, something urgent. Sebastian was focused entirely on this crazy, beautiful woman. He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close against him as they walked along the pavement and he hailed a taxi.

The ride to her place couldn't go fast enough for him. The fact she wanted it as much as he did rang joy bells through him. During the journey he held her tight against him, feeling increasingly enamored with this woman who had stepped into his life unexpectedly and vibrantly. They scarcely knew each other, but he didn't want to let go of her.

She looked like a dream date in a gauzy purple dress that floated down into filmy layers around her shins. The straps of her sandals criss-crossed over her elegant little feet and wound themselves around her ankles. The fabric of her dress pooled enticingly in her cleavage and shimmied over her body in all the right places when she moved. Yes, his attention was all hers.

The taxi pulled up outside a converted townhouse. She was already opening up the front door to the building by the time he'd paid the driver. The hallway was taken up on one wall with mailboxes and the other gave the illusion of space with a large mirror that ran the length of the space. He caught sight of their reflection as they walked past it. He grabbed her into his arms, then turned her to face the mirror, nestling behind her, forcing her to look. He wanted a picture of them together to hold in his memory. Silently she met his eyes in the mirror, her body still swaying in his arms. She put one hand up and stroked his head where it was pressed against hers.

"My flat is up the stairs," she whispered, pulling away.

"How many stairs?" He darted after her, his interest honed again as he watched her sashay up the stairs in front of him. His hand quickly went to her hip, and he drew her closer as she walked.

"I've never counted them."

He counted the steps out as they went and when they reached the second landing Amy was laughing as he pulled her back into his arms again. There was a need so deep inside him that for a moment he wanted to have her right there on the staircase. He took a deep breath. Just looking at her, touching her skin with one fingertip, and he was lost to the world around him.

"This is our floor." She nodded her head back and to the right, where a doorway was marked with the number ten.

He liked the way she said "our floor" because right now he was glued to her side. He nodded, trailing his fingers along her jaw before allowing her to escape his grasp to unlock the door.

As she went in she switched on an uplighter and two lamps.

Sebastian followed and scanned her studio flat, taking in the details of bookshelves and framed prints and the quirky keepsakes that expressed her personality. His attention was soon back on her.

"Take a seat." She indicated a large armchair.

Sebastian undid his jacket and removed it before taking the seat she'd offered. She was in an adjoining kitchen area, pouring drinks by the sounds of it. A moment later she returned with two tumblers. "I hope brandy is good for you."