her brain and make her struggle to speak. He was waiting patiently for her answer and if he could read her thoughts, as she suspected, he was no doubt amused by her lack of reply.
‘May I have a glass of water, please?’ she managed to ask, just as if it looked like he was about to repeat his question.
Her words sounded strange and she could feel her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth but she wasn’t a hundred per cent sure it was from the alcohol. It could also be because of the half-naked man standing in front of her. She’d seen plenty of naked or semi-naked bodies before but it wasn’t every day that one as fine as this appeared before her. Was it any wonder she was struggling to think clearly, let alone speak?
He turned and scooped ice into a glass with his left hand and Scarlett caught a glimpse of a tattoo on the inside of his left biceps, several inky black marks making a dark impression against his skin. He turned to pick up a slice of lemon from the bowl he’d just filled, obscuring his tattoo from view. He dropped the lemon onto the ice and grinned at her as it hit the cubes. His hips kept time with the music as he filled the glass with water and Scarlett’s stomach did a peculiar flip as she watched. He looked completely comfortable in his skin and there was something very sensual about his movements.
‘Anything else I can do for you?’ he asked, as he placed the glass on the bar. His eyes swept over her face, from her eyes to her lips and down to her chest as he spoke to her. Scarlett knew the neck on her dress was high enough that there was no hint of cleavage but she blushed as if she was the one standing there half-naked, not him. His swift gaze was practised, she had no doubt he had plenty of experience at giving women a quick once over, but even she could see the appreciation in his eyes. She could feel her pulse beating between her thighs, and she could feel it getting stronger as the heat in his gaze intensified.
She swallowed and reached for the glass, only to find he hadn’t let go of it yet. Her fingers touched his and a surge of electricity shot through her. She snatched her hand back as if the glass was hot instead of filled with ice-cold water.
He was smiling at her again as he pushed the glass closer before removing his hand. His green eyes laughed at her but not unkindly as he asked, ‘First time?’
She looked at him in mute surprise. There was no room in her head for conversation as unfamiliar hormones ran rampant through her bloodstream.
‘I’d remember if I’d seen you before,’ he added, and Scarlett wondered if the bar staff relied on tips. That would explain why he was being so friendly.
But water was free, wasn’t it? There was no need to tip and, therefore, no need for him to flirt with her. She’d never had a stranger flirt with her. She wasn’t really the type. She knew it was because she never encouraged eye contact, she didn’t have the knack of catching or holding someone’s attention. She knew the barman had only noticed her because she’d gasped when he’d dropped the knife and she was positive he was only flirting with her out of habit.
She glanced around, partly to confirm that he was actually talking to her and partly to see if anyone was paying them any attention. The bar area wasn’t busy; most of the women seemed happy to utilise the club’s table service and let the shirtless waiters come to them. The focus of the room was the stage and the tables were set facing that way, which meant most of the women had their backs to the bar. No one was looking at her. No one except the hot barman.
She wasn’t sure what she should do in this situation but, since no one was watching her and to ignore him would be rude, she smiled back. ‘You have women who come here often enough that you can recognise them?’
‘Believe it or not, we get a lot of regulars. Birthday parties and hen’s nights are good for repeat business. We’ve even had repeat customers who hold divorce parties.’
‘Divorce parties?’
‘The club owner thinks divorcees are an untapped market. Cashed-up women looking for some fun.’ He shrugged his smooth, sculpted shoulders. ‘He’s right and they do seem to enjoy themselves but I take it that’s not why you’re here?’
She shook her head and replied. ‘Hen’s night.’
Her eyes flicked across the room to the group she’d come with. No one seemed to have missed her and while she felt as though time was standing still she’d probably only been gone from the table for a few minutes.
As she scanned the room the stage lights came on and started pulsating. The deejay started spinning a eighties disco number and the dance floor cleared as everyone made their way back to their seats and focussed their attention on the front of the room as the next act, an athletic stripper in a sailor’s outfit, took to the stage. Scarlett could see the stage from the bar. It was in the club’s interest to make sure all patrons had a good view, but she wasn’t in any hurry to return to her seat, she was more than happy with the view she had here. She checked again but it seemed as though her absence wasn’t being noted. She guessed her company couldn’t compete with a semi-naked man gyrating on a stage.
‘You’re with Candice?’ he asked. Apparently he had followed her line of sight.
Scarlett’s eyes shot back. ‘You know her?’ she asked, as she remembered that Candice had known someone who worked here. Was this him?
‘We’re old family friends,’ he explained. He pulled the tea towel from the waistband of his jeans and began wiping the bar. It was already spotless and Scarlett wondered if it was a delaying tactic. Was he delaying so he could talk to her? A warm glow spread through her. She couldn’t deny she was enjoying the attention. ‘Do the two of you work together?’ he asked.
Scarlett nodded.
‘Are you a nurse too?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m a doctor.’
Her answer surprised him. He’d thought he was a good judge of character and while he didn’t think she looked like a nurse she looked even less like a doctor. Her neck was long and slender, her face a perfect oval. Her lips were full and pouty, shiny with a pale pink gloss. In contrast, her eyes were dark and mesmerising. Outlined with kohl, the lids dusted with dark eye shadow and her lashes coated with mascara, her eyes looked as though they could have a thousand secrets hidden in their depths.
Her hair, a brown so deep it was almost black, was thick and she’d pulled it back into a bun at the nape of her neck. His fingers itched to reach across the bar and pull the pins out, to let her hair cascade over her shoulders.
He realised it was the bun that had thrown his judgement off. It was far too severe for her stunning features and gave her the appearance of someone who worked in administration. All she needed to complete the look was a pair of glasses.
On the surface she looked like organised efficiency but his imagination suggested that underneath the surface was a different story. Perhaps he’d been working at the club for too long, he thought as his mind wandered. Maybe he was having difficulty separating fact from fiction, reality from fantasy.
‘What’s so funny?’ she asked.
He shook his head as he realised he was smiling. ‘Nothing.’ She was a doctor who worked with Candice. It wasn’t funny, it was perfect, but the story would keep for another day. ‘I’d better get back to work. Tell Candice I’ll come over later and say hi.’
He watched as she left the bar and crossed the room to return to her table. He wasn’t in a hurry to get back to work—checking her out was far
