she cut in. ‘We’re at a charity ball for the hospital. So the chances are, if you were a complete snake, you wouldn’t be here. Or else someone would’ve warned me about you beforehand and I’d know to avoid you.’
He blinked. ‘The grapevine’s that fast?’
‘Yup.’
‘So you work at the hospital,’ he said thoughtfully.
‘No questions,’ she reminded him.
He smiled. ‘It wasn’t a question. It was a logical deduction. This is a charity ball for the hospital, and you clearly know people, plus you’ve been to the ball before and you know how fast the grapevine works. QED.’
‘And you had an expensive education.’ She smiled at his raised eyebrow. ‘Again a logical deduction. Most people don’t use Latin abbreviations in everyday speech.’
‘So the fact you recognise it says the same about you,’ he parried.
‘Not necessarily. I might be a crossword addict.’
‘I like fencing with you,’ he said. ‘Almost as much as I like dancing with you.’ His gaze held hers. ‘And almost as much as I like kissing you.’
Colour bloomed in her face, but this time it wasn’t shyness. The way her lips parted slightly and her pupils grew larger told him that she liked remembering the way they’d kissed, too.
He took her hand; this time, instead of kissing her palm, he kissed her wrist right where her pulse was beating madly. The longer his mouth lingered, the more her pulse sped up. Her skin was so soft. And she smelled gorgeous—some floral scent he couldn’t quite place, mixed with something else. Soft and sweet and gentle. Irresistible.
‘You do things to me, Cinders,’ he said softly. ‘But I’m not going to push you. Do you mind if I…?’ He ran his finger round the collar of his shirt and grimaced.
‘Slip into something more comfortable?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He laughed. ‘Hardly. I just want to feel a bit less—well—formal.’
‘Sure.’
‘Thank you.’ He stood up and removed his jacket, hanging it in the wardrobe. Then he undid his bow tie and the top button of his shirt and let the tie hang loose, and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up.
She sucked in a breath.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘Forget Prince Charming. You’re all James Bond,’ she said.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that a good thing?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Her voice was husky. ‘My best friend and I saw the last film three times at the cinema.’
‘Well, just for the record, I hate martinis.’
She smiled. ‘So do I.’
‘And I don’t have a licence to kill.’
She spread her hands. ‘The only licence I have is a driving licence.’
He laughed. ‘Snap. I like you, Cinderella.’ His voice deepened, softened. ‘Come here.’ It was an invitation, not an order. She paused, clearly weighing it up, then nodded, stood up and crossed the short distance between them.
He cupped her face with both hands. ‘A perfect heart shape,’ he said softly. ‘And right now I really, really want to kiss you. May I?’
‘Yes.’
Ed smiled and lowered his mouth to hers. Teasing, enticing, more of those little nibbling kisses that had her twining her fingers through his hair and opening her mouth so he could deepen the kiss.
And, just like it had been between them on the dance floor, he felt desire lance through him.
He pulled away slightly, spun her round and undid the zip of her dress. She arched back as he stroked his way down the bare skin he uncovered. Her skin was so soft; and touching her like this wasn’t enough. He wanted more. A hell of a lot more.
Gently, he slid the dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He drew her back against him, his hands splayed across her midriff and his thumbs stroking the undersides of her breasts through the lace of her bra.
‘I want you,’ he whispered. ‘I want to be with you, skin to skin.’
‘Me, too.’ The admission was low and throaty, and sent a kick of sheer need through him.
She turned to face him, untucked his shirt from his trousers and undid the rest of the buttons of his shirt. Her hands were gentle and yet sure as she slid her palms across his pecs. ‘Nice,’ she said appreciatively.
‘Thank you.’ He inclined his head, acknowledging the compliment. ‘I like it when you touch me.’
She smiled back, and pushed the cotton from his shoulders; his shirt pooled on the floor next to her dress. She traced the line of his collarbone with one finger.
Good, but not enough. He needed more. He kissed her again, his mouth teasing and demanding at the same time.
He unsnapped her bra, tossed the lace to the floor and then cupped her breasts properly. ‘You’re beautiful, Cinders.’
No, I’m not. Her thoughts were written all over her face.
Someone—presumably her ex—had really done a number on her. Just as much as Camilla had made him wary of trusting anyone.
‘Whoever he was,’ Ed said softly, ‘he was an idiot.’
‘Who?’
‘Whoever put that look in your eyes.’
She shrugged. ‘You’re wearing too much.’
She’d said ‘no questions’. And now he had a pretty good idea why. This was starting to look like rebound sex. For both of them.
But they’d agreed from the start that this was one night only. A night out of time. The new hospital was big enough for their paths never to cross again. And if he could make her feel good about herself again tonight, the way she was making him feel good about himself, then that would be a bonus for both of them.
He took her hands and drew them down to his belt. ‘Since you think I’m wearing too much, why don’t you even things up?’ he invited.
Her hands were shaking slightly as she undid his belt, then the button of his formal trousers, and slid the zipper down.
‘You are beautiful, you know,’ he said softly. ‘Your eyes—I’m not sure if they’re green or grey or brown. The colour keeps shifting, and it makes me want to know what colour they are when you’re really aroused. And your mouth.’ He traced her lower lip with one fingertip. ‘It’s a perfect cupid’s bow. It makes me want to kiss you until we’re both dizzy. And here…’ He dipped his head and took one hardened nipple into his mouth.
