It Started With... Collection. Miranda Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ now, you and I both know that the amount of Bacardi they put in drinks in places like this is barely detectable. All you’ll taste is the cola.’

      ‘True,’ she agreed.

      ‘So was that other chap right?’ he went on whilst the barman busied himself with their drinks. ‘Did your last boyfriend do you wrong? Is that why you’re all alone tonight?’

      She shrugged. ‘Something like that.’

      ‘Aah. A woman of mystery and intrigue. I like that. It makes for a change.’

      ‘A change from what?’

      ‘From women who launch into their life story as soon as you meet them.’

      ‘Does that happen to you often?’

      ‘Too often.’

      ‘Did the blonde over there do that?’

      ‘Actually, no. But then, she had other things on her mind tonight. Looks as if she finally hit the jackpot.’

      Jessie flicked a glance over at where the blonde was now leaving with the man who’d joined her earlier. It didn’t take a genius to guess that they were going back to her place. Or his. Or maybe even a hotel. There were several within easy walking distance of this bar.

      ‘Most men would have jumped at the chance,’ she remarked.

      ‘I’m not most men.’

      ‘Yes. Yes, I can see that.’

      Their drinks came, giving Jessie a breather from the tension that was gripping her chest. As cool as she was sounding on the outside, inside she was seriously rattled. She liked this man. More than liked. She found him fascinating. And sexy. Oh, so sexy.

      ‘What about you?’ she asked, deciding to deflect the conversation on to him, make him admit he was married. Anything to lessen her worry over where their conversation might lead.

      ‘What about me?’ he returned before taking a deep swallow of his drink.

      ‘Did your last girlfriend do you wrong? Is that why you’re alone here tonight?’

      He drank some more whilst he gave her question some thought. Suspense built in Jessie till she wanted to scream at him to just confess the truth. That he was the one in the wrong here. Regardless of how stressed he might feel with life, he should be at home with his wife and kids. She’d heard him say that divorce was a blight on society. Did he want to find himself in the middle of one?

      Finally, he looked up and slanted a smile over at her. ‘You know what? I’m going to take a leaf out of your book. No talking about past relationships tonight. I think sometimes I talk way too much. Come on,’ he pronounced and put his drink down. ‘The music’s changed to something decent. Let’s dance.’

      Jessie stiffened, then gulped down a huge mouthful of Bacardi and cola. ‘Dance?’ she choked out.

      He was already off his stool, already holding out his hand towards her.

      ‘Please don’t say no,’ he said softly. ‘It’s just a dance. Mind the lady’s bag, will you?’ he asked the barman. ‘Better put your cellphone away as well. You don’t want a natty little number like that to get swiped.’

      She did hesitate, she was sure she did. But within moments she’d put the phone away and was placing her hand in his and letting him lead her over to that minute dance floor.

      It is only dancing, she told herself as he pulled her into his arms.

      The trouble was, there was dancing…and dancing.

      This was slow dancing. Sensual dancing. Sexy dancing. Bodies pressed so close together that she had no choice but to wind her arms up around his neck. Her breasts lifted, rubbing against the well-muscled wall of his chest. His hands moved restlessly up and down her spine till one settled in the small of her back, the other moving lower. The heat in his palms burned through the thin material of her dress, branding her. Her heartbeat quickened. The entire surface of her skin flushed with her own internal heat. She felt light-headed. Excited. Aroused.

      And she wasn’t the only one. She could feel his arousal as it rose between them.

      When her fingertips tapped an agitated tattoo on the nape of his neck, he stopped, pulled back slightly and stared down into her eyes.

      ‘Would you believe me if I told you that I haven’t done anything like this in a long, long time?’ he murmured, his voice low and thick.

      ‘Done what?’ she replied shakily.

      ‘Picked a girl up in a bar and within no time asked her to go to a hotel with me?’

      She stopped breathing. Stopped thinking. Her world had tipped on its axis and she felt every ounce of her self-control slipping. A voice was tempting her to blindly say yes. Yes, to anything he wanted. She had never in her life felt what she was feeling at this moment. Not even with Lyall.

      This was something else, something far more powerful and infinitely more dangerous.

      ‘Will you?’ he said, and his smouldering gaze searched hers.

      She didn’t say a word. But her eyes must have told him something.

      ‘No names,’ he murmured. ‘Not yet. Not till afterwards. I don’t want to say anything that might spoil what we’re sharing at this moment. Because I have never felt anything quite like it before. Tell me it’s the same for you. Admit it. Say you want me as badly as I want you.’

      She couldn’t say it. But every fibre of her female body compelled her to cling to him, betraying her cravings with her body language.

      ‘You do talk too much,’ she whispered at last.

      His lungs expelled a shuddering sigh. Of relief? Or was he trying to dispel some of the sexual tension that was gripping them both?

      ‘Then you will come with me,’ he said. ‘Now. Straight away.’

      They weren’t questions, but orders.

      He would be an incredible lover, she realised. Knowing. Dominating. Demanding. The kind she had used to fantasise about. And which she suddenly craved.

      ‘I…I have to go to the ladies’ first,’ she blurted out, desperate to get away from him. Once some distance broke the spell he was casting over her, she would recover her sanity and escape.

      ‘I suppose I could do with a visit to the gents’ as well. I’ll meet you back at the bar.’

      She didn’t meet him back at the bar. She spent less than twenty seconds in the ladies’ before dashing back to the bar, collecting her bag from the barman and bolting for the exit. She ran all the way to Wynyard Station, where she jumped on the first train heading north.

      It was only half an hour since she’d walked into that bar. But it felt like a lifetime.

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