Mr. Temptation
She let the liquid soothe, its chilling effect sliding down her throat, her thoughts calming with it.
It’s okay, you can handle this. You’ve gone in with your eyes open; you can let go when the time comes. You can.
‘So, Mayfair?’ he prompted.
‘Yes, Mayfair first,’ she said, ‘and then I have an outsider to follow.’
‘Another of your risky ones?’
She grinned. ‘It’s good to mix it up a little.’
‘And where is it? This outsider?’
Her grin grew; she was already anticipating his reaction as she said, ‘We’re going south of the river.’
He almost spluttered on his drink. ‘I may be relatively new to living in London, but even I know one doesn’t live south of the river on my budget.’
‘You didn’t seem to mind being south of the river a couple of weeks back.’
He frowned over her comment and she bit the inside of her cheek, hating the jealousy that erupted over the brain-imprinted image of him at The Shard, pressed up against that blonde.
You’re a fool to take him there.
You’re an even bigger fool if you don’t.
The inner battle that had raged since she’d secured the viewing came back with force and she shot it down. She had a job to do above all and the property demanded a viewing; it was something else. And as for her feelings, they could just do one.
‘So where’s the harm?’ she asked lightly, keen to get back to comfortable ground.
‘You tell me.’
Her pulse skipped—shit.
He wasn’t referring to the property; she could tell it in the softness of his tone, in the pinched look to his brow. He’d read her jealousy in the force of her response and was wanting her confirmation. Was it a test? Was he gauging just how much she’d crossed the line and let her feelings get personal?
You idiot!
‘There is none,’ she said, her recovery delay
ed but firm enough—you’ve got this. She stroked a hand over her hair, her smile turning suggestive as she added, ‘And I’ll prove it to you, if you let me take you there.’
He was quiet, his eyes scanning her face, and then his mood lifted, his own lips quirking. ‘In that case, I can’t wait.’
* * *
‘I’m really not sure we need to see the property south of the river,’ he said truthfully, scanning her tablet and the details of the property they’d just left.
They were back in the Sprinter, his attention split between the impressive house he’d just seen, and the allure of the woman sitting before him. Legs crossed, the black skirt to her dress giving away far too much for the desire-filled fog to vacate his brain. It wasn’t so much the perfection in the house they had just seen wanting him to end their viewings for the day, but his desire not to waste another second with her.
Somewhere a clock of his own making was ticking, ramping up a desperation that he could barely comprehend, let alone quash. He knew their relationship had shifted into unknown territory, that it wasn’t just sex any more. And if it wasn’t just sex, then what was it?
She turned to him now, eyes and lips smiling as she sipped at a fresh glass of champagne. ‘You liked it, then?’
‘What’s not to like? It has the space, the roof terrace, the parking, a gym, swimming pool, sauna, lift...’ He was just reeling off the brochure now, but truth was, it fitted the bill. There was no denying it. ‘And best of all, no hassle of a chain, so why bother with the next?’
‘Because you should weigh up your options, especially when they come with such a hefty price tag.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s what I’d expect.’