‘You really are a stunning woman. I saw your profile, but you can never be certain. There is such a thing as angles and flattering lighting.’ He gave a soft chuckle that sent a shiver of disgust snaking down my spine. ‘But you arebeautiful.’
I ignored his palm and folded my arms over my chest, leaning back in my chair.
And with practised confidence, I shrugged, saying, ‘I know.’
He blinked a few times, taken aback by my brazen response. His fist snapped closed. He mimicked mymovements, eyeing me carefully. The smile I’d previously considered nice turned into a sneer. This was the first time he had given me his full attention all evening. I searched his steel-grey eyes for a sparkle, a tingle, something that told me there was a single flicker of chemistry between us.
Nothing.
The wine sloshed in my empty stomach.Need food.
‘Confident too,’ he continued as his gaze appraised me like a prize show pony. The longer he stared, I felt an oily film coat my exposed arms. I made a show of licking my lips and his eyes latched onto the motion. I leaned forward, propping my elbow on the table and resting my chin on my palm.
In a low, sensual voice, I said, ‘I know I’m beautiful. I know I’m smart. I don’t require validation.’ The smile that graced my lips was so sweet it nearly gave me a toothache.
His brows pinched together. He opened his mouth to say something, but when nothing came out, he snapped it closed.
My feet were poised under the table, ready to call time of death on this date. Even though the prospect of trawling through dating apps and entering into mind-numbing small talk with another man made me want to hurl. Some things couldn’t be saved. And I couldn’t go another second with his asinine comments about cricket or my appearance. I’d rather salvage whatever was left of my evening by going home and putting my vibrator to good use. One of my favourite authors had just released a brand new book that promised to be a far more enjoyable way to spend an evening.
I was dreaming of hot chocolate and my warm bed when I felt it. A prickle of awareness curled in my veins, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand to attention.
Michael’s attention had fallen to the menu and itslackof options, droning on, even when I stopped responding to him. My head turned to look around the half empty room. A bar sat at the end of the room. Stools filled with people casuallychatting. My eyes danced over them until they landed on a familiar set of blue eyes.
Eyes that were locked onto mine. Staring at me across the room as if nothing else existed to him. Even when the bartender placed a full pint of beer in front of him, he jutted his head in acknowledgement, not tearing his gaze away.
My skin was on fire. The heat from the room, coupled with the fact that I had drunk wine on an empty stomach—always a bad idea—I felt my cheeks flush.
He was sitting on a stool at the bar, tucked into the corner, away from the rabble and close enough that I could see the ghost of a smile play on his lips. Soft and teasing. He dropped the magnetic eye contact and shifted his gaze to my date. George’s face was inscrutable as he surveyed the man sitting opposite me.
For one insane second, I was desperate to ask him what he thought. What had that line appearing between his brow? His eyes flipped back to me, and once again, my stomach did that stupid flip.
The wine must have done a number on me.
After a few more seconds of blistering eye contact, his brows lifted in an expression that said,seriously? This guy?
I wanted to blurt out that there weren’t that many options, and he seemed the most innocuous alternative to a gym bro who talks about different protein powders for hours on end.
A small voice in my head piped up,Like cricket is any better?Fair point.
‘Shall we?’
Michael’s question made my head snap back to him. His eyes creased, clearly searching for an answer I didn’t have because I hadn’t been listening. He lifted his menu in the air, laughing awkwardly.
The side of my face and neck grew hot, still feelingGeorge’s impenetrable gaze. Before I knew what I was doing, I rose to my feet, throwing my napkin on the table. Michael looked taken aback by the sudden movement.
‘I’ll be right back,' I said to his dumbstruck expression.
My brain had ceased to function properly as I sailed across the room towards the gruff, bearded man who had the audacity to look amused.
He took a sip of his drink, and goddamn him; the casual move was so at odds with the searing eye contact he held with me. When I reached him, it only then occurred to me I didn’t have a clue what I wanted to say. My mind was blank. George placed his beer down on the bar, cocking his head to the side.
‘Hi there, sweetheart.’I will not blush.
Folding my arms over my chest, I schooled my expression. ‘George.’
He peered around me. ‘You appear to have a very confused accountant at your table.’ His gravelly voice vibrated through me. I blamed the lack of sex and the terrible date on the effects that voice had on my body.
‘He’s not an accountant.’ Because that was the most important thing to say. After a moment of tense silence, my shoulders slumped. ‘He’s a stockbroker.’
