‘State-of-the-art soundproofing. Costs a bloody fortune but worth it.’ He took a left turn, pointing out the salient landmarks as he strode ahead.
‘Kitchen here and staff break room. Staff toilets on the right.’ Another left turn. ‘You can use this office.’ He paused outside a room where the furniture had been sited but still wore its protective Bubble Wrap clothing. He flashed his handsome, lopsided smile and Essie nodded, eyeing the sparse space.
They’d arrived at the last room. Ben rapped lightly on the door.
‘Come in,’ a voice said.
If she hadn’t been so dazzled by the warmth and camaraderie of her brother’s welcome and the affectionate bonding moment of him sharing his shiny new club with her, she might have clued on sooner. But she followed him into the room, blind to everything but Ben and blissfully oblivious to the impending catastrophic confrontation.
And came face-to-face with Ash.
The smile she held on her face morphed into a frozen grimace. Her cheeks twitched with the effort of keeping it there, like a painted-on clown smirk.
She scoured her gaze over his height and breadth, seeking confirmation. But, no, it was definitely him.
The verification came, a breath-stealing blow to the solar plexus.
‘Essie, this is Ash Jacob, my oldest friend and now business partner. Ash, my little sister, Essie Newbold.’
Essie wanted to run a lap of honour at hearing Ben’s description of her, but her stiff skeleton could barely manage a small chin tilt in Ash’s general direction as her neck muscles seized like a rusty gate.
Confident, commanding Ash stood, smoothing down his graphite tie as he rounded the sleek, modern desk and strode into her personal space with his hand outstretched in greeting as if he had not a care in the world. Saliva pooled in her mouth, her throat too tight to allow it passage. Her mind ping-ponged inside her skull, playing catch-up.
His gorgeous face, now clean-shaven to reveal a chiselled jaw and sinful creases that bracketed his full mouth, was relaxed, a small, polite smile on his lips as if he welcomed a total stranger, not the woman he’d come inside last night with a yell she heard every time she closed her eyes.
The memory of his now absent stubble scraping across her nipples gave her an acute pang of longing to see the relaxed, playful Ash of last night. Tourist Ash. Not this tie-wearing, professional version with distant, accusatory eyes and a tense jaw. But for the embers flickering in his navy stare, she’d almost have believed she’d concocted last night’s torrid one-night stand. But her hips and thighs still bore the ghostly imprints of his fingertips as he’d held her tight and drilled into her with fierce determination.
‘Nice to meet you.’ The rich, dark rumble of his voice scraped her eardrums. Her coffee soured in her stomach. How could he maintain such a poker face? Why didn’t he suffer the same jaw-dropping disbelief currently rendering her speechless? And why, oh, why out of all the men in the universe had she chosen her half-brother’s best friend and business partner for her first one-night stand?
Ash’s warm hand enclosed hers, reminding her of last night’s touches. Touches that should have been more intimate but paled against this simple handshake, because this time all pretence was stripped away.
Ash Jacob was The Yard’s co-investor.
Ben’s silent business partner.
Ben’s billionaire friend from uni. A man she’d wrongly assumed was a tourist and picked up in St James’s Park. A man she’d had sex with, twice, whose bed she’d only left mere hours ago. A man to whom she’d confessed her pathetic lack of sexual experience, and thought she’d never see again.
Molten heat engulfed Essie’s throat. She swallowed it down with a sour chaser of you’ve-only-got-yourself-to-blame. But her stomach rebelled the dose of self-inflicted medicine.
Pulling herself up, she levelled her best cold stare on his sinful good looks and returned his handshake with an overly firm one of her own, ignoring the delicious glide of his callused palm.
Social pleasantries complete, she yanked her hand from his as if he were a live wire, connected to the mains.
He’d lied to her.
Deceived her.
Pried into her sordid hang-ups about her crappy father figure.
Why had she told him such personal information? Why hadn’t she asked more about him? She really was a one-night-stand rookie. Her burning eyes darted away, but not before his image branded her retinas.
She’d wanted to experience the casual sex hype, desperate to lend an air of real experience and authority to the relationship advice she touted on her blog. All because, despite her qualifications, despite years of academic research, despite actually having had a long-term relationship, she feared herself an imposter.
Of course, the fact she’d been starved of earth-shattering orgasms during that relationship and that Ash was...easy on the eye had helped...
She snatched another scan of his sublime body. Unlike the relaxed, slightly crumpled hottie she’d met yesterday, today Ash wore a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and sharply tailored suit trousers that complemented the silver-grey tie and highlighted the intense blue of his eyes.
Gorgeous. Mouth-watering. A duplicitous scumbag...
As hot as he’d looked dressed down in jeans and a T-shirt, he wore this sharp, professional outfit like a second skin, as he wore the power that oozed from him. As he lived and breathed the air of command and authority that immaculate tailoring afforded. Her breath caught. She could have slapped her own forehead. Another piece of the puzzle slotted home—Ben’s new business partner was a top New York attorney...like a character from that TV show, only a hundred times hotter and a thousand times more untouchable.
But she had touched.
The seconds stretched.
Awkward seconds. Seconds absent of the expected social niceties. To compensate, Essie blurted the first inane thing to pop into her head.
‘So you’re Ben’s business partner?’ Duh...
Ash nodded. Slow. Easy. His stare glittering. As if he recognised the turmoil rendering her tongue-tied. And not one hint of regret or embarrassment. Unlike her, who was practically molten with shame.
‘Guilty as charged.’ His voice carried a bite that had been missing from the deep, hypnotic rumble of the easy-going sightseer. As if he was used to being in control?
And lawyer humour... Really?
‘Ben has been talking about you all morning,’ he said. ‘Of course, he mentioned a while ago he’d recently united with his half-sister, but I’d failed to pay attention to your very pretty name.’ His eyes flicked down the front of her dress. To the coffee stain...
Perfect.
Essie fought the temptation to fold her arms across her chest and keep on folding herself into a tiny origami Essie. Had Ash told Ben about last night? About how she’d thrown herself at him? How she’d blurted out her inexperience and then eagerly climbed his ripped body? Had he laughed at her? And why was he pissed? She’d been the one deceived, duped. Dazzled by his confident charm and his promise of a string-free night to remember. It wasn’t as if she’d stalked him here for a repeat performance...
And how much of her sad little tale, her pathetic past, did he know? Had Ben told him all about her sorry past? Had Ash linked the woman confessing her daddy issues before fleeing his bed with Ben’s sister?
As if he’d heard her thoughts, he said, ‘Imagine my surprise when I heard Ben’s sister