‘You must be tired. Join me in a drink before you order your food.’
‘Er…’
‘Wine? Gin and tonic? Water?’
He moved towards a mini-sized open-plan kitchen area and threw over his shoulder, ‘The bar will be fully stocked with whatever you want. If you want something different, they’ll bring it up to you.’
‘Amazing.’
‘You pay for what you get. What do you want to drink?’
‘I guess I’ll have a glass of wine. Thank you.’
She hovered, watching him, looking out for more signs of irritation.
When he reached to hand her a glass of wine, she could barely control the slight tremor in her hand.
‘I’m not going to bite, Georgie, so you don’t have to look so nervous.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘What are you apologising for?’
‘I… I know you’re irritated with me but it’s not my fault that you’re here with me!’
She hadn’t meant to say anything because maintaining a dignified silence would have been so much better, but she hadn’t been able to help herself and now that she had said what she had, she looked at him with simmering defiance.
‘I’m not irritated with you.’
‘Is it because…? No, forget it.’
She went to sit on one of the comfortable sofas, although she would rather have skulked off to her bedroom. She’d initiated a conversation and now she wished she hadn’t. He’d told her that she made him feel old. She could have said that he made her feel way too young and green around the ears for her liking.
She sipped her wine and stared at the ground, but she could feel his dark eyes on her as he strolled to sit on the very same sofa next to her.
‘What am I forgetting and is it becausewhat? Georgie, I apologise if I was a little short. The truth is I’m exhausted.’
Georgie slanted a glance across to him. He was rubbing his eyes then he sat back on the sofa and briefly closed them.
He looked beyond exhausted.
She was staring at him when he opened his eyes and looked at her and, for a few seconds, the atmosphere was very still as the silence continued for a fraction longer than it should have.
Her heart began to thud.
Sexual awareness zipped through her. She wasn’t just admiring a good-looking guy. This wasn’t a detached appreciation of someone who stood out from the crowd and this didn’t feel at all like the harmless crushes she had had on guys in the past.
What she felt now was potent and overwhelming, an electric awareness of him that made her dampen and made her nipples tingle at the thought of being touched.
By him. By those long brown fingers at which she now seemed to be staring.
Her mouth went dry and she fought to try and get her scattered thoughts in order.
‘Well?’ he prompted.
‘I thought that perhaps you were embarrassed by me,’ she said in a rush, and just as quickly she finished the rest of her wine and covered the empty glass with her hand because no way was she going to have any more.
‘Embarrassed? Why would I be embarrassed by you?’
