Promised (One Night 1)

For the first time since I’ve met him, he smiles. It’s a proper smile – a beautiful smile . . . and I fall a little bit more. ‘Because I simply have to kiss you again.’ Leaning in, he gently rests his lips on mine. ‘It’s new to me. I need to taste you some more.’

New? It’s new to him? What, like different from his usual polished, diamond-adorned women?

‘And because what we can create together shouldn’t be passed up, Livy.’

‘The best f**k of my life?’ I ask against his lips, feeling him smile again.

‘And a whole lot more.’ He pulls away, leaving me feeling bereft. It might be a feeling that I should get used to. ‘Where do you live?’

‘I live with my elderly grandmother.’ I don’t know why I say elderly, maybe to justify my living arrangement. ‘Camden.’

A look of surprise flits across his perfect brow. ‘Tell your grandmother you’ll be back tomorrow night. What’s the address?’

‘What will I say?’ I ask, suddenly panicked. I’ve never stayed out for a whole night, and no plausible reason to do so now is coming to me.

‘I’m sure you’ll think of something.’ He stands, putting his hand out to me, and I take it, letting him pull me to my feet.

‘No, you don’t understand.’ This will be impossible to pull off. ‘I don’t stay out at night. She’ll never believe me if I try to fob her off with anything other than the truth, and I can’t tell her about you.’ I’ll kill her off with shock. Or maybe I won’t. Maybe she’ll dance around the kitchen, clapping her hands and thanking the Lord. Knowing Nan, it’ll be the latter.

‘You never go out?’ he frowns.

‘No.’ I fake nonchalance to within an inch of my life.

‘And you’ve never stayed out overnight? Not even at a girlfriend’s?’

I’ve never been embarrassed by my lifestyle . . . until now. I suddenly feel young, naive and inexperienced, which is ridiculous. I need to locate my long-lost sass. While he’s promised me mind-blowing sex, what does he get out of it, because I’m certainly no sex kitten who’ll rock his bed. A man like this must have women forming a queue at his front door, all kitted out in satin or lace, all in stilettos and all ready to send him wild with desire.

I shake my head, looking down to the ground. ‘Remind me why you want to do this again.’

‘If you’re speaking to me, isn’t it polite to look at me?’ He tips my chin up. ‘You don’t seem like a self-doubter.’

‘I’m not usually.’

‘What’s changed?’

‘You.’

That one word makes him shift uncomfortably, and I immediately regret saying it. ‘Me?’

My head drops again. ‘I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.’

‘I’m not uncomfortable,’ he argues quietly, ‘but now I’m wondering whether this is a good idea.’

My head snaps up, panicked that he might withdraw his offer. ‘No, I want to do this.’ I don’t know what I’m saying but it doesn’t stop me from babbling on some more. ‘I want twenty-four hours with you.’ I step into his chest and look up to his eyes – the ones I’m going to lose myself in very soon, if I haven’t already. ‘I need this.’

‘Why do you need it, Livy?’

‘I need it to show myself that I’ve been doing things wrong for too long.’ I brave a kiss and reach up on my tiptoes to push my lips to his, hoping I’ll remind him of what it felt like last time, hoping he experienced the surge of energy, too. Before I can even think to engage my tongue, I’m wrapped in his arms and being pulled up to his chest, our mouths fused, our bodies bonded, my heart falling further. His lips on mine and his hard body coating me feels . . . right.

‘Are you sure?’ He removes me from his embrace, holding me at arm’s length and hunkering down to ensure he’s got my eyes and my attention. ‘I’ve made clear how it’ll be, Livy. If you can deal with that, then for the next twenty-four hours, it’s just us – my body and your body doing incredible things.’

I nod my head convincingly, even though I’m not at all sure. I can see doubt lingering on his stunning face, which pushes me to force a smile, worried that he might pull out on our deal. I might not know what I’m doing, but I certainly don’t know what I’ll do if he walks away from me now.

‘Okay,’ he says, sliding his hand around my nape and pulling me into him. ‘I’ll take you home.’ He starts to guide me from the square, his palm secured firmly on my neck as he pushes me onward. I glance up to him, just to check he’s there – to check that I’m not dreaming.

He’s there, and he’s gazing down at me, assessing me, probably analysing my mental state. Should I ask him his conclusion because I haven’t the foggiest? All I know is that he’s mine for the next twenty-four hours, and I am his. I just hope that I don’t find myself in further desolation once my time is up. I’m ignoring the voice in my head, currently screaming at me to stop this right now. I know how this’ll turn out, and it’s likely to be messy.

But I just can’t refuse him. Or myself.

Chapter 6

‘I’ll wait here for you.’ He pulls up outside my house and takes his phone from his pocket, waving it at me. ‘I have a few calls to make.’

He’s going to wait? And he’s going to wait outside my house? No, no he can’t. Bloody hell, Nan’s probably sniffed him out already. I look up to the bay window at the front of our house, watching for twitching curtains. ‘I can get a cab to your place,’ I try, making a mental list of things I need to do once I get inside – shower, shave . . . everywhere, moisturise, spritz, make-up . . . tell the fattest lie I ever will.