‘They aren’t bothering me.’
So she does like the jumped-up little prick. Though he’s not little, in truth. If he didn’t dress like a fucking golfer, he could probably pass for a rugby player.
‘I’ll get some background checks run on him in case you do decide to date him.’ The word date sticks like a thorn in my throat.
‘Oh, I’m not thinking about dating him.’ Her voice is playful, tinged with amusement. ‘I’m thinking about fucking him. It’s been an absolute age since I got laid and a girl has needs, you know?’
She’s staring at me with those huge hazel eyes. Gold flecks dance with devilment.
This time, I can’t drag my own away. They rake over her prominent chest. Follow the dip of that indecently low V that reveals creamy, silky skin that I’m dying to run my tongue across.
What I wouldn’t give to slip my hand under her dress and take care of those needs for her. Kiss every inch of her body until she forgets her own name.
Blood pulses below. My cock is rock solid, straining so hard against my tailored suit pants they’re in danger of ripping.
I’ve barely been here twelve hours and already my self-control has evaporated into the Edinburgh night air. ‘Needs?’
‘Yes. I am a healthy, red-blooded woman, you might notice now you’re finally looking at me.’
I am looking at her. A rare, risky indulgence I’m granting myself. ‘You need a man to take care of those needs. Not a preppy boy-band reject. That guy we met tonight couldn’t meet those needs if you gave him a map, a torch, and a million quid.’
‘And you could, I suppose?’ A single dark eyebrow rises to challenge me.
‘Sweetheart, if the circumstances were different, we might have been allowed to find out.’
She swallows hard. Glassy eyes smoulder straight to my soul.
For fuck’s sake.
I drag my eyes away from her again.
Teresa May.
Margaret Thatcher.
Camilla Parker-Bowles.
I take a sip of water. I could pour the whole damn lot over my head and it wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference. I’m as hot for Victoria Sexton as I’ve always been.
‘Harrison seems like a total creep,’ I mutter.
She shrugs nonchalantly. ‘Like I said, I’m not thinking about dating him.’
Damn right you’re not.
Not if I have anything to do with it.
7
VICTORIA
With three days off before I’m due back at the hospital and a mountain of studying to do, the time passes pretty uneventfully. If there was supposed to be some comeback on that nightclub shooting, there’s been nothing. Not that I expected there would be. I knew I was never personally in danger. It was my family who needed reassurance.
Still, Archie hasn’t let me out of his sight, bar bedtime, worse luck.
I’ve replayed our conversation in the bar over and over in my mind.
If the circumstances were different, we might have got to find out.
