Jeremy touched her arm, his fingers quickly dropping away at her frosty glare. ‘So, I’d love to show you the sights before you leave London. Are you free tomorrow evening?’
He stepped closer, eyes flicking south again. Clearly he had the hide of an elephant—or was simply ignoring her subtle fuck off vibe.
Libby fought the urge to cover her cleavage with her hand. ‘I’d have loved to explore London—’ just not with you ‘—but every second of my week is committed to my work for Able-Active.’
She stretched her lips into an insincere smile.
‘Excuse me.’
She weaved through the bodies, coming to a halt at Alex’s side. With their backs to the opulent room’s ornate fireplace, he rested his hand at the base of Libby’s spine, fingers splayed. She breathed out a sigh.
‘Olivia, I’d like you to meet Jack Demont—my cousin, and brother of the bride at this weekend’s festivities.’
The handsome Frenchman dropped a kiss to the back of Libby’s hand. ‘Delighted to meet you, Ms Noble.’
Like Alex, he was tall, his striking eyes partially obscured by a flop of dark blond hair.
‘Please, call me Libby. Your English is excellent.’
Unlike her French.
Jack laughed. ‘Thank you. My father is English and I spend a lot of time here. Plus, I had my accent bullied out of me at school by some notorious thugs.’
He flicked a glare at Alex, who laughed and shrugged, unapologetically.
‘You gave as good as you got.’ He grinned a lazy smile at Libby. ‘I wore braces for much of my schooling.’
So Mr Perfection had once had flaws? A computer geek with braces? She shivered, certain that her fifteen-year-old self—an insecure bookworm dressed from the thrift store—would have found him attractive.
Alex turned back to his cousin. ‘I’ve invited Libby to Henri and Isabel’s wedding.’
Jack bowed his head in acknowledgment. ‘Yes. You must come. Provence is stunning at this time of year.’
‘I’m sure…’ Olivia looked away.
‘I don’t think Olivia is big on romance,’ said Alex.
Libby shot him a look she hoped conveyed her contempt. Why would he assume that? He knew nothing about her because she liked it that way.
The sting of his jibe called her a liar. Didn’t some part of her relish that they were getting to know each other? Not that she’d consciously let him in. She never let anyone in. But with his confessions about his mother and sister, his open, raw vulnerability—he’d lured her dangerously close.
Jack slid wary eyes between her and Alex, seeming to sense the tension sparking in the air. ‘Well, excuse me. I’m leaving for Nice tonight.’ He kissed both of Libby’s cheeks. ‘It was delightful to meet you. I hope you’ll accept my cousin’s invitation to the wedding so we can get to know each other better. Au revoir.’
Jack departed, talking the room’s warmth with him.
Goosebumps raced along Libby’s bare arms. She turned to Alex, the take-down she’d planned dying on her lips at his proximity.
He pressed close, leaving the scantest space between his body and hers. ‘What did Jeremy say to upset you?’
His breath gusted over her neck, her shoulder, spreading tingles.
She met his hard stare, felt the flickers of heat melting her insides. Was that jealousy? Possession?
‘How do you know I’m upset?’
His perusal completed a tour of her face, lazily tracing each feature in turn. ‘I’ve seen you happy, relaxed, excited, replete…’ He mouthed each word, his lips and tongue caressing her, as when he’d drawn those emotions from her. ‘I’m observant where you’re concerned.’
His fingers found the sensitive skin inside her elbow, sliding. The intimacy, for once, was irritating.
She bit her cheek. She shouldn’t have let Jeremy get to her. She’d met enough Jeremys professionally to be able to handle them. And, unlike Alex, they were easily forgettable and easy to walk away from.
Libby shuddered, the imprint of Jeremy’s fingers still tainting her arm, and his greedy stare still burning her skin.
‘Did he come on to you?’ A flash turned his eyes molten, burning into hers.
Why lie? She owed Jeremy nothing. And this thing with Alex was temporary. No time for insecurities.
‘Yes.’
But didn’t she feel his possession in every touch? Crave the spark of it in every look he gave her? What was wrong with her?
His fingers stalled on her arm, the press of the tips a fraction firmer. ‘Are you interested?’
‘What?’
Eyes hard, he thinned his lips. ‘Well, we’re just fucking—your word.’
Libby glanced around to see if anyone was paying them any attention. She had given this thing a crude label, one that clearly outlined the parameters of their contact. Why, then, did hearing her words turned back on her irk so much?
Alex continued, as if unconcerned, but his voice was low. ‘I’ve asked you on a date. A proper date. No games. You haven’t answered.’
So he did have an ego—better hidden than most, but there just the same.
‘I don’t sleep around.’ Why tell him that? It made no difference to them. They barely knew each other. Their fuck-fest had a short expiry date. ‘Before you, there’d been no one for three years.’
He didn’t register her confession. She wasn’t even sure why she’d told him herself.
‘So why me?’
She lifted her chin, backpedalling. ‘Fishing?’
He sighed, his gaze flicking away and then returning, more open. ‘Yes.’
At last there was a hint of insecurity in the way he rubbed the knuckles of one hand down his face.
Tempted to tease him, Libby pinched her lips together, hiding a smile. She grasped the chance to lighten the mood, steer them away from the wrong turn this conversation had taken. After all, they weren’t a couple, so why bother with disagreements? Their time was limited.
‘Temporary lapse of common sense.’ She smiled. ‘I blame jet lag.’
After a couple of beats he grinned, his hand slipping to her waist and his expensive, heady scent filling her head as he dipped closer.
‘Want to be reckless with me tomorrow?’ His lips grazed her ear. ‘Jet skiing?’ He whispered the words as if he’d suggested an illicit sex game.
She shuddered. The thought was not unpleasant. ‘Another day freezing on the Thames?’
His mouth twisted, dimples flashing. ‘No, I was thinking the Med…’ His cocky disarming smile returned.
Irresistible.
‘Like to get your own way, don’t you?’ Her breath gusted, her pulse fluttering in her throat. Any game with Alex was surprisingly addictive.
‘Absolutely.’ A slow nod.
Clearly sensing victory, he moved closer, his hand sliding to her hip. Seductive.
‘And so do you.’
He quirked an eyebrow, fingers gripping tighter, the way they did just before he came,