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“You think I’m gorgeous?”

She merely shrugs her shoulders when I question her, and a long blonde lock of hair falls forward.

“Isn’t that a bit of a girly description?” I ask, leaning forward to brush the hair back. The minute my fingertips come in contact with her skin, I feel a jolt of electricity, much like the night I stood between her legs in that bathroom and licked my blood from her finger. I grow hard at the memory—a memory that feels like a lifetime ago, even though it’s only been a couple weeks.

Her widening indigo eyes reveal she feels it too. Good. I’m not alone in this.

“How would you describe yourself then?” she asks, interrupting my naughty flashback. “Let’s not play coy, Cohen. Men like you know you’re gorgeous. The term is only a technicality.”

“Well then, I’d say I’m ruggedly handsome. In a very masculine way, of course. And maybe even a little dark.” I take a drink of my lager. Or a lot dark.

“I see, so you would describe yourself as a sexy pirate then?” She laughs, the sound washing over me as I spew warm lager from my mouth and into my hand before it hits the table.

“Christ, woman. A sexy pirate? Are you trying to kill me?” I choke out laughter. She passes me the few remaining napkins to sop up the mess, and I clean up the alcohol dripping down my face and onto my shirt.

“So, you’re a sexy pirate and a techie who moonlights as a knight in shining armor. What other secrets are you hiding, Cohen?” Her teasing remark hits too close to home. I’m hiding more than she could ever imagine. James, helping her home drunk, intending to use her, among other things. Too many secrets. It’s like a bucket of ice water has been thrown on the fire that has been raging for her since she walked in this pub. Hell, since I saw her standing at that graveside.

Every last ember snuffs out at the chilly thought of what will happen when she finds them out. All of them.

“I’m pretty much an open book,” I lie. “Ask away.”

“Okay then, where are you from? How about family? Pets, a parrot maybe?” I love her wicked sense of humor. “Annoying habits? Goals in life? Deepest, darkest secret?” she rambles off.

“Everywhere. A mum, no pets, I may or may not snore a bit after a heavy night of drinking, goals…hmmm, that’s a tough one. To take my place as head of my family’s business,” I confess without realizing what I’ve just said. “I’m not swapping secrets with you, not tonight anyway.” I finish my drink, placing the empty glass back on the table with a quiet thud.

“It’s going to take more than a couple lagers to get me talking. Something much stronger and in a much smaller glass.” Scarlett is watching me, the cogs in her mind turning. Nothing gets past her.

“Your family’s business? Lu Tech?” she asks.

“No, another business. Lu Tech is all mine. The other is an…old family business, shipping industry. But I must prove myself before I can make my claim to it.” My jaw tightens as I grit my teeth and stare at the empty space above her head where the tall wooden planks rise up to meet a beamed ceiling.

“Claim to what?” she starts, and my eyes shut as I’m forced to either lie or…well, lie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. That was insensitive of me.”

“No, really, it’s fine. It’s just a bit of a sore subject.” I drop my gaze back down and focus on her.

“So computers?” She steers the conversation back to something safe, and I’m floored by how in tune we seem with each other. If I believed in reincarnation, I would almost believe she was mine before this life. Maybe she’s just one damaged soul, recognizing another and my limits.

“Yeah, computers. I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, but I had a knack for computers. A neighbor taught me, my uh…my mum worked a lot. I found I could get lost in codes and sequences.”

I’ve already said more than I should about who I really am, so I try to give as much truth as possible without giving too much.

“I’m quite tech challenged myself,” she laughs as the barkeep rings the bell for last call.

Glancing at my watch, I see we’ve been talking for hours and I lost track of time.

She shifts nervously in her seat. “I guess I should be going, I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“I’ll walk with you,” I tell her. “I just need to settle up the tab.”

Scarlett reaches for her bag. “Here, let me,” she offers, scrambling for her wallet.

“I’ve got this.” I step away before she can argue. When I return, she’s standing next to the booth looking like sin in a dark blue dress that hits just above her knees and heeled sandals that make her legs look a mile long.

“I can pay my own way.” The edge in her voice has me searching her face. “I have my own money.” There it is. Pride.

“It’s just a meal, Scarlett, and a few drinks.” I get it, more than she realizes, but she opens her mouth to protest and I cut her off.

“Next time, you can buy.” She freezes when she catches what I’ve just said.