Nights In Black Leather. Noelle Mack

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СКАЧАТЬ ma’am. Sorry, Lara typed. She deleted the little grinning dot.

      Jason can wait, I suppose. Go back to Clerkenwell, Lara. Enjoy your teeny-tiny flat. So snug.

      Lara replied with a frowny face emoticon and signed off.

      Gemma was easy to irritate, which didn’t mean that she wasn’t dangerous. But she was brilliant in her way and a stickler for accurate information. Running an investment firm like hers kept Gemma right in the middle of London’s wealthy and famous upper crust. She knew everything about everybody, and had a fact-checker on her staff to find out, among other things, who was fucking whom. She had filled in Lara on Adam’s resume—curriculum vitae, she called it—and even his love life. Her acerbic comments were memorable.

      “As far as I know,” Gemma had said, “Adam Bowlin is a one-woman man.” On being asked how she knew that, Gemma had gone on at length. “It’s not top secret, mind you, but the info is completely reliable. I confirmed it on the Bitch Vine—my gossip group, darling. We meet online to vent, snoop, complain, rank London’s leading bachelors and the married men too, of course, and start scurrilous rumors if there isn’t enough mud to sling.

      “But Adam has a sterling reputation. He’s never cheated, not given anyone an STD, not ever got a girl preggers—nothing! Very odd, that. And yes, he’s thoroughly heterosexual and apparently monogamous to the max. He was in a long relationship with a woman he adored—she left him for someone else, the fool—and he hasn’t found someone new. So a little Yankette like you could get lucky. He likes gals with moxie. Ha ha. Do forgive the slang. Is it up to date? Or have I been watching too many old American movies starring hard-jawed detectives? Probably. Not as if I have a lover. Or anything else to look forward to on Saturday night…” Lara’s attention had begun to wander at that point.

      Adam came back into the room just as she was shutting down her laptop.

      “Everything’s set. I should have paid more attention to the time. Do you prefer vegetarian?”

      “No.”

      He looked relieved. “We can get a decent meal at the Blackthorne Grille. And we can get your shoe fixed on the way. What do you say?”

      Adam seemed to want to take care of her. It was an interesting feeling, very interesting. “Let’s go,” she said cheerfully.

      She gathered up her things and they reversed their journey to the lobby. Financial businesses never really shut down. She could hear the hum of electronics permeating the quiet air. They walked past a different security guard, who was reading a tabloid newspaper with lurid headlines. Royal Alien Baby Born. Dorsetshire Vicar Worships Giant Jugs. See The Beast of Buckingham Palace—Photos Inside! The guard flipped the pages and yawned, then looked up briefly and nodded to Adam.

      Adam nodded back as Lara tagged after him. He continued to lead the way to the building’s garage, stopping at a big black car.

      She gazed at her reflection in its side. Want a ride, little girl? Yes, she did.

      Nonchalantly, Adam used the key remote to pop the trunk and stow her purse and laptop before he opened her door for her.

      She settled in, providing him with a peek at her upper thighs as she shifted in the seat. Might as well make the most of the magic while she had a chance.

      “Thanks. You’re a gentleman.”

      “I try.”

      They stopped around the corner and he double-parked. She waited in the car while he took the shoes in. The cobbler, an ancient, whiskery man who seemed to be straight out of a Charles Dickens novel, didn’t even glance outside the old-fashioned bow window.

      The Blackthorne Restaurant was the height of understated elegance. She ordered steak, done medium well, and he ordered a pint and something called bangers and mash. She didn’t even want to ask.

      But when their order arrived it turned out to be sausages and gobs of mashed potatoes, and a foam-topped glass of ale. She liked a man who ate plain food. Once Chicago stockbrokers and traders made their first five million, they tended to eat expense-account chow and boast about it endlessly.

      “How about a bottle of wine?”

      “A glass will do me.”

      He ordered the best they had by the glass. Lara felt it soon enough.

      “So where are you from exactly?” he asked, not looking at the check the waitress brought. “You never did say. Chicago proper or the Chicago area? America is so damn big.”

      Small talk. Yay. Evidently he wanted to know more about her. Lara was pleased.

      “A small town outside Chicago. Way, way outside. Prairie dog territory. You probably never heard of it.”

      “Sounds exotic.”

      She thought for a few seconds. “Well, it isn’t. The biggest social event is the annual Beer Pong competition.”

      Adam nodded thoughtfully and folded his arms on the cleared table. “Did you ever win?”

      “Hell, no,” she said indignantly. “I did try when I was fifteen, but I threw up first.”

      He laughed. “Ah, golden youth.”

      Lara only laughed. “Not exactly.”

      “Well, we all went through something like that.”

      “You did? I thought keggers were only the great American pastime.” Yikes. She was making herself sound like a lush. He was smiling at her, though.

      “Good God, no. British teenagers have you Yanks beat.”

      She held up a hand. “Okay, spare me the details.”

      “I will. It’s a good thing you threw up. Beer never did anything for anyone’s brains.”

      The waiter came over to inquire whether they wanted coffee, but Adam shook his head and pulled out his wallet, tossing down a few bills and rising when Lara did. He gestured for her to go ahead of him. “After you, Miss America.”

      “Yeah, right. Thanks for dinner.” She picked up a mint from the bowl by the cash register and tucked it into her cheek. “I’m stuffed.”

      “You didn’t eat that much.”

      She managed a smile, sorry she’d picked at it. She did like to eat and she normally had a hearty appetite. But that seemed to be focused more on him. Adam Bowlin looked awfully tasty. And more than bad enough to make what she wanted happen fast.

      Wildest dreams, coming true, she thought happily.

      Adam handled everything involved with checking in at the hotel, while Lara did a little exploring. She would be staying on an upper floor apart from the main hotel. When the elevator doors opened, she was astonished to see a rooftop terrace landscaped to look like a traditional English garden. There was actually a small house in the middle of it, almost like a dollhouse, she thought at first glance.

      Lara stared at it, delighted. No, it was probably a careful reproduction of a much larger stately home. СКАЧАТЬ