CALLUM
It couldn’t be this easy. No way. I’ve no idea where she’s going with this proposition of hers, but I’m not stupid enough to believe for a single second that she’s going to fall into my arms, or my bed for that matter. She’s apparently famous for being strong-minded. I’m missing something here.
‘My place or yours?’ I allow the charade to play out while I gather my thoughts.
‘Yours.’ Swirling chocolate eyes stare hotly into mine.
If the boys hadn’t given me the lowdown already, I could have been persuaded that Abby genuinely experienced a change of heart. The intensity of her gaze hints that she’s at least contemplating losing that little red number for me. My body aches with over-sensitised longing at the prospect.
I remove the keycard from my trouser pocket and insert it into the slot. Abby would only have to glance down to witness my growing excitement.
I hold the door open for her.
‘Wow. So this is what being an Irish rugby star gets you.’ Abby heads straight for the sliding doors, which open onto a large patio overlooking the golf course.
If I admit it’s a downgrade from my own place overlooking the Liffey, she’ll assume I’m a materialistic dick.
I throw my phone onto the table while she scrutinises the accommodations. There’s a super king-sized bed and a spacious living area, containing a large charcoal coloured couch and a long oak stained coffee table. Slipping her heels off, she relaxes into the cushions of the sofa, elevating her long supple legs. In a deliberately seductive fashion, she positions her red varnished toes onto the coffee table. If she hasn’t come here with the intention of having sex with me, why is it oozing from every part of her? It’s the worst type of torture. Yet I don’t want it to stop.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ I assess the selection in the minibar.
I can phone room service if there’s nothing here she wants.
What does she want? That’s the million-dollar question. I’d love to think it’s me, but I’m not that vain – contrary to popular belief. Match tickets maybe? Not likely. Her little brother to be a mascot at one of the Ireland games. More plausible, but I doubt it.
‘I’ve probably had enough for one night…but why stop when I’m on a roll?’
‘Good girl.’ I nod my approval before remembering she’s supposed to be a bra-burning feminist who could well mistake the term girl as patronising.
Abby’s face doesn’t flicker. Maybe this won’t be as difficult as the lads led me to believe.
‘I’ll have whatever you’re having.’ She offers a seductive smile across the room, which illuminates her entire face and imprints boldly into the most private part of my brain.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Give it to me.’ She means the drink, but her innuendo is deliberate.
Oh, how I would love to, Abby. You have no idea.
I pour two Jameson on the rocks and hand her the whiskey. She arches an eyebrow. I want to lower her inhibitions, and I’m prepared to play dirty.
She pats the couch next to her, offering me encouragement that I don’t need. I sink down and place my feet companionably on the table next to hers.
‘What are you doing to me, Fabby Abby?’ I groan in frustration.
‘Ah, I wondered if you knew about that.’ She takes a sip from the crystal tumbler thoughtfully.
‘I didn’t. Until the waitress enlightened me. Funnily enough, I don’t usually need advice when it comes to the opposite sex. Now, if I’d known the host was so fucking sexy, I might have tuned in.’
A coy grin spreads from her mouth to her ears. She flashes perfectly straightened, neat white teeth. ‘Funny you should mention that. I was thinking something along those very lines earlier.’
‘That if I knew you that you were so sexy, I’d listen to your show? You can’t be that desperate for listeners.’ Perhaps she thinks dating me will raise her profile.
No, I’ve got a feeling she’s already more high profile than I know.
‘Something along those lines, yes.’ She glances at the open top button of my shirt, licking her lips. Her mixed messages are sending me dangerously close to the edge. It’s all I can do not to kiss her.
‘Well, by all means, I’ll tune in if it means that much to you.’ I take a mouthful of golden liquor and try not to stare at her luminous skin, inches from mine.
