‘No, maybe not drunk, but are you scared, little cat?’ His eyes glint in the ambient light, warming my insides like a good glug of red. Not that I need another. But, seriously, I’m not drunk. Or a cat, even if I feel a little feline right now—the sort of feline that would curl up in his lap.
‘Look,’ he continues, ‘my car is here. Why don’t your friends take it? It can come back for you afterwards, give us a chance to have a drink? A coffee? Just a chat?’
‘It’s very late.’ Even I can hear the distinct lack of resolve in my words. I bite the inside of my cheeks to stop my embryonic smile. Not drunk, but still, as my nan used to say,drink in, wits out.
Unfolding his arms, he slides them into his pant pockets with a sly smile. ‘Was that your resolve I just heard cracking?’
‘Probably just my artificial knee.’ He laughs loudly at this, which is startling but I end up laughing myself. ‘What, you don’t believe me?’
‘You forget, we’ve been up close and personal.’ My smile falters. Surely I would’ve remembered something like that? ‘Some memories aren’t easily forgotten. That ladder and, if you don’t mind me saying so, your exquisite behind.’
‘Stop!’ And by my tone I surely meanplease, do go on.
He shrugs indolently but doesn’t answer, at least not verbally. He just stares intently, like he’s assessing, or imagining doing... things.
‘Who’s got a dodgy knee?’
A curious mixture of relief and disappointment takes over as Niamh joins us, arm through Rob’s for an introduction. Talk turns to various plans for the weekend as I zone out, unable to stop myself from surreptitiously studying Kai. The man is seriously hot. Sex on legs. So lean and large. Masculine.But it’s more than that, he has a presence, the kind I imagine holds a room. The kind I imagine demands dirty, raspy things in the bedroom, things I, I mean, a girl, would immediately do. My eyes are drawn to his strong shoulders and down his arms, one elegant hand still concealed in the depths of a pocket, so close to his—
Minutely shaking my head, I refocus on the conversation, becoming aware that things have moved on.
‘Grand, so the car will come back for Kate.’ Niamh opens the SUV’s passenger door as both the driver and hotel doorman bundle Matt in through the other side. ‘Call you tomorrow,’ she says over her shoulder, turning back to peer into the cavernous interior.
‘Hang on, what?’
‘Your man has sorted it.’ She draws me into her arms. ‘And you can thank me later,’ then she whispers-sings, ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’
Potentially, this leaves a whole world of stuff I can do but probably wouldn’t even consider, not that I get a chance to point this out as she releases me and quickly clambers in. I don’t have the power of speech for a reply, as it turns out, or wit, as I find myself on the pavement, the presence of Kai burning by my side as the car’s rear lights fade into the night.
‘Coffee?’ The word sounds low and suggestive.
‘Caffeine keeps me awake.’ His response is non-verbal and as subtle as a confetti canon. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say the two of you planned this.’
Laughing, he takes my reluctant hand into his as he slips the doorman a folded monetary note of thanks, almost by sleight of hand. ‘Anyone ever tell you you’re cute when you scowl?’
‘I’msopleased you’re entertained.’
‘Strangely enough, now I feel like the cat. The cat with a pretty toy.’
I shiver quite suddenly even though I’m the opposite of cold in the heavy evening air.
In the lobby’s cool expanse, Kai pauses between a bank of elevators and an entrance to a restaurant.
‘Upstairs, I think. Do you agree?’ His face is open and earnest.A little too earnest, I think. Shock must register on my own as he begins to smile. ‘Of course, if you’re uncomfortable, we could just have a drink in the bar.’
‘Of course not, upstairs is fine,’ I reply, trying for nonchalance and falling short. I’d begun to convince myself he meant exactly that, only a bar or coffee shop upstairs. But I have my big-girl undies on. Not literally, thankfully, just... mentally, and not that I plan on taking them off.
No, definitely keeping them on.
I think.Maybe. Probably.
‘You don’t look like you bite.’ I almost don’t register my flippant response, the words in the air without much thought.
‘No,’ he answers as the doors chime, announcing their arrival. ‘Not unless you ask. Verynicely.’
Absolute sobriety falls like a veil, my stomach clenching somewhere between eagerness and, I think, fright. But there’s little opportunity to over-think or analyse as I step into the elevator ahead of him.
Because he wants me.
And I want him.
And I’m going to his room.
