glanced at her watch and gave him a polite must-dash smile. Unfortunately, she wasn’t looking like it was that attractive a prospect from where she was standing.
‘Someone?’ he clarified.
She stole a glance at the revolving doors as they spat another snow-covered guest into the lobby.
‘A friend. She’s actually due any minute,’ she gabbled.
She? So not here as part of a couple then? His interest intensified at the revelation and he shrugged easily.
‘She’s probably delayed because of the snow. It’s bad out there,’ he said, stating the obvious. ‘Can I buy you a coffee while you wait?’
An awkward pause and then she gave him a perfunctory smile.
‘I don’t think it would be a good idea,’ she said, not really meeting his eyes.
‘I’m getting seriously mixed messages here,’ he said. ‘There I was thinking you were instigating a rerun and you won’t even do coffee?’
‘A rerun?’ she said.
‘I suppose you’re going to tell me it’s a coincidence that of all the places in the lobby, you chose to stop and chat to me right here?’
She stared at him through narrowed eyes, wondering what the hell he was going on about, then followed his gaze as he looked up, one eyebrow cocked knowingly. An enormous bunch of mistletoe tied with a red silk bow was suspended directly above them. Her stomach made a warm, melting flip and she hefted her holdall in front of her as if to ward him off.
‘Coincidence,’ she said, her cheeks warming. ‘Pure coincidence. I had no idea that was there.’
‘Oh really?’ His tone was amused, as if he didn’t believe a word of her excuse and was thoroughly enjoying this, toying with her. And let’s face facts, he probably was. Of course after her wanton behaviour of five years ago, Tom Henley thought she was an easy lay. And could she really blame him? Because five years ago for one night only, she’d been exactly that.
‘No! I really am NOT that kind of girl,’ she gabbled desperately, then saw his cocked eyebrow, his half smile, realised he was teasing.
She rolled her eyes at the ceiling and grinned as she looked back at him.
‘I just realised how that sounds,’ she said. She sighed and put her bag down for a moment on the marble floor, passing a hand over her eyes. ‘Believe it or not I don’t do one-night-stands, I don’t actually do any kind of stand. What happened in Devon was a blip.’
‘A blip?’
A smile played on his lips, as if having her on the back foot amused him all the more.
‘A one-off,’ she clarified madly.
It was true, that night in Devon had been a one-off, never repeated before or since. For some reason that night the conditions had been perfect for one-night-stand requirements. Need to prove herself alive – check. Don’t-care attitude – check. Both had come from the loss of her grandmother a few months earlier, which in light of the fact that when it came to parenting skills, her mother and father had proved themselves on a par with a chocolate teapot, had meant Ella was truly on her own in life at the age of twenty-two. Add in the fact she was sacked from her waitressing job and that Tom had come to her aid, and mix in the fact that he was leaving the country the next morning. No repercussions to worry about when the other person was on another continent – right?
Result – a one-night stand that had been so hot it made her toes curl just thinking about it. And the whole point of one-night stands was they stopped at one night. The clue was in the name.
‘It’s nice to see you, Tom,’ she said. She kept her tone detached, polite. ‘But I really need to get settled in.’
This time he didn’t follow her, but she felt his eyes on her as she took the stairs to the galleried landing above.
‘Coffee,’ he called after her. ‘Open invitation, grab it while you can. The moment the snow melts I’ll be out of here.’
She had absolutely no intention of grabbing it while she could.
It was perfectly simple. This was the UK after all, not Lapland. How long could the snow possibly last before he would be winging his way to Barbados as planned? One day? Surely two at most. All she needed to do was keep her head down and stay out of his way until Liz got here, avoiding any further encounters. Unfortunately, her ready-made excuse of a travel companion still hadn’t shown up. A harried phone call later and she understood the reason why.
Turned out Tom Henley had a point. Liz’s train was delayed by at least three hours due to snow on the bloody tracks. Plans to simply hang out in the room for a bit until her friend showed up suddenly morphed into the most boring waste of time imaginable.
Half an hour later and she’d drunk two coffees and eaten all the complimentary biscuits in the room. She bounced on the bed and glanced through the hotel information brochure for the second time, thinking it over. She could stare at four walls while she waited for Liz or she could while away some time in the award-winning Spa.
No contest. She stood up and tugged her swimsuit from her case.
***
A gorgeously relaxing ambience, muted lighting, fluffy towels and complimentary robes. The Spa was virtually empty, it being that lull just around lunchtime, between check-in and check-out. With all the snowy London sights to take in swimming wasn’t a big daytime attraction. Ella swam a few laps of the pool, then climbed out and settled herself on a wicker lounger, magazine at the ready. Soothing background music filled the air. Bliss. Not a sign of Tom Henley anywhere. And of course there wasn’t. With a flight on standby at any moment, Tom Henley was hardly likely to change into swimwear and be parted from his mobile phone, right?
Wrong.
Ten minutes later and she glanced up from her magazine to see him stroll casually into the pool, a towel slung around his neck, dark blue swim shorts topped with perfect tight abs, broad muscular shoulders and damply tousled dark hair. It seemed that for all his grouching about missing eggnog parties, Tom Henley was in no rush whatsoever to get back to the airport. Her heartbeat immediately picked up as if she’d done a couple of circuits in the beautifully equipped gym. She saw him clock her from the opposite side of the pool and he sauntered over leisurely.
‘What, no friend?’ he said, when he was a few feet away as if he thought she was some billy-no-mates with a fictional travelling companion. He sat down next to her, although the room was full of empty loungers and her stomach knotted into a ball of tension.
‘Liz is delayed in the snow,’ she said. ‘A bit like you.’
She saw his eyes sharpen.
‘So you’re at a loose end, then? Time to kill.’
The look on his face was open and friendly. His smile was as melting as she remembered, the way it started slowly and then moved
