Lula’s insides shrivelled in mortification.
Leaning in, Emily gave her a tight hug, whispering, ‘You go, girl. Show this guy who’s boss,’ into Lu’s ear before flashing them both a wicked grin and hurrying off.
He stayed talking with her for another hour after her crazy friend had left, enjoying her company more and more as she seemed to relax with him.
They chatted about everything and nothing; he teased her about her love of nineties music, which she countered by turning her nose up at his obsession with trad jazz. They discussed their favourite books from childhood, his passion for following Formula One racing and her seemingly encyclopaedic knowledge of art-house films.
Despite her reluctance to leave with her friends, Tristan had a strong suspicion that picking up random guys in a pub wasn’t Lu’s usual modus operandi. There was something too reserved about her to make him believe she did this kind of thing on a regular basis. He loved the fact she was clearly making a special effort for him—he hadn’t felt that wanted in a while—but unfortunately it pointed towards the possibility that she’d expect more from this encounter than he was able to give.
She was a sexy and engaging woman and he could imagine she’d be incredible in bed but he probably shouldn’t push for anything to happen between them.
He didn’t do one-night stands. And he didn’t need any complications while he was here. As soon as this radio station mess was resolved he’d be on the first plane back to Edinburgh—back to running the family business that his father had now totally lost interest in.
He drained the last of his third bottle of beer. ‘I should probably go,’ he said gently.
The look of bewildered disappointment, which she quickly forced into an unconcerned smile, made his heart do a slow dive. She clearly didn’t want this encounter to end and, if he was totally honest, neither did he.
‘No problem,’ she said, knocking back the last of her wine and placing the glass onto the bar.
He noticed, with a jolt of surprise, that her hand seemed to be trembling.
‘I really should get going too. Things to do tomorrow.’ She gave him a false bright smile.
‘Are you going to catch up with your friends?’
‘Nah. I don’t think I should drink any more.’
He nodded. ‘Very sensible.’
Huffing out a laugh, she swept her hand through her heavy blunt-cut fringe. ‘That’s me, Level-headed Louise.’ She slung her bag across her shoulder and straightened her top. Looking back up at him, she cracked a rueful smile. ‘I’ll walk out with you.’
They exited into the cool spring London air, the fume-filled, peppery scents of the city twanging at his senses.
He was painfully aware of her there next to him and acutely conscious that once she walked away the chances of ever seeing her again were practically non-existent. It seemed such a pity when there was such intense chemistry between them.
They came to a stop outside the pub and he put a hand onto her shoulder, feeling the silky material of her top slip beneath his fingers. Her skin was warm beneath his touch and he wanted to leave it there, revelling in the delicate heat of her for a while longer.
She looked up at him questioningly, her bright, open gaze drawing him in deeper. He was utterly mesmerised by the sweet, vulnerable expression on her face.
Neither of them moved as they gazed into each other’s eyes, caught in an inexplicable connective tension that made it impossible for him to turn away from her. This had never happened to him before—this strange, undeniable pull—and it made him weirdly nervous.
He finally found his voice. ‘Look, Lu, I think you’re a very attractive woman and far be it from me to deny you the chance to find out whether your theory about men with glasses is correct, but I should probably do the gentlemanly thing and flag you down a cab.’
‘Yeah, that would be the sensible thing to do,’ she murmured in that tormenting voice of hers, still looking him dead in the eye.
Something tugged low and hard, deep in his pelvis. Ah, boy, it was going to be painfully difficult to walk away from her and go back to his cold, empty hotel room when she was looking at him like that. He wanted to gather her in to him and kiss the life out of her. To lose himself in her warmth, to forget about all the responsibilities that waited for his attention in the real world.
‘I’ve really enjoyed meeting you tonight,’ he said, his voice coming out husky and rough.
Her smile was faltering. ‘It was lovely to meet you too.’ Putting both hands on his chest, she pressed them into him, as if attempting to osmose her sincerity, digging her fingertips gently into his pecs.
His body gave a disturbing throb as everything from his taste buds to the soles of his feet responded to her. Taking a deep breath and putting his hands over the top of hers, he tilted his head in a show of regret. ‘In another universe we’d have an amazing night together.’
She pinched her eyebrows together, her voluptuous mouth turning down at the corners, and took her hands away, dropping them to her sides.
The loss of her touch disturbed him more than it should have.
‘You don’t have a girlfriend, do you? Or a wife?’ The idea seemed to horrify her. It horrified him too. He was never getting married. Not when he’d repeatedly seen how miserable it could make you.
Shaking his head, he gave Lu an amused smile. ‘Neither. But I have a lot of work to do tonight.’ It sounded so pathetic when he said it out loud. Was he really going to work instead of spending more time with this fascinating, capricious woman?
He took a breath, aware she was looking at him with justifiable scepticism. ‘The thing is, I’m only here in London—’ But he didn’t get to finish his sentence because she reached up to lay one of her small, cool hands against his neck and draw his head down to her lush, waiting mouth.
Her lips were warm and soft against his and he closed his eyes reflexively, drinking in the erotic intimacy of her touch. Barely a second later she drew back and he blinked his eyes open and stared at her, taking in her own surprise at the unexpectedly audacious action.
‘I just needed to do that,’ she whispered in that taunting voice of hers.
All the arguments that had previously filtered through his mind evaporated into the sultry night air along with his resolve as he lost the tenuous grip on his control. Moving quickly towards her, he recaptured her soft, wine-scented mouth with his.
She let out a deep, low moan in the back of her throat, the sexy desperation of it nearly undoing him and he darted his tongue into her mouth, tasting the sweetness of her.
He stopped her from stumbling backwards by putting his hands on her hips and pulling her roughly towards him, pressing their bodies close together. She responded by sliding her arms around his waist and kissing him back with a ferocity that made his whole body tighten with lust.
A pulse-quickening notion of what could happen if they didn’t stop this ran through his head: him leading her back to his hotel across the road, them kissing fiercely in the elevator as they travelled up to the fourth floor, stumbling into his room, already tugging each other’s clothes off as they tried to make it to the bed before they lost all control and ended up in a sweaty, writhing mess on the floor.
He could see it all unfold—practically taste it—but he shouldn’t let that happen.
Should he?
She slipped her hands under his jacket and dragged her nails down his back, leaving tingling lines of sensation across his skin.
His