no. Don’t apologise. Carry on.’ The man, whose name had been on every banner in the gallery, gave a dismissive wave before reaching for his brew.
‘No, really …’ Sam continued to apologise. ‘Um … I think we ought to be going. Come along now, everybody out. Let Mr Alexander have his peace.’
‘There’s really no need.’ A twitch of annoyance flashed across his face. It seemed Victor Alexander was more perturbed by Sam’s insistence that we stop, than by the depravity he’d stumbled upon. Having finished making his drink, he turned and rested against the arm of the sofa Sam had jumped up from, and from which David was still extracting himself.
‘What are you doing?’ Sam asked, the quaver in her voice betraying her still underlying panic.
Victor raised his eyebrows. ‘Watching. Drinking my coffee. Given how much you were enjoying yourselves it must be a good show.’
Is it wrong that I loved him from that very moment, from his winkle-pickers to his mod jacket to his almost, but not quite perfect nose? I slapped a hand across my mouth to hide my smile, while Sam gaped and spluttered. I probably ought to have tried to extract myself from the situation, rather than stand there being amused, with my butt on show, but Nathan held me in a death grip.
‘No – no. You can’t.’ Sam reached out to her celebrity guest, but stopped short of dragging him from his perch. ‘I thought you’d left. I watched you go.’ She finally managed to wrench her dress into the correct position, at which point her cool, business self reasserted itself. She took a breath, and spoke calmly, ‘I’ll go and order you a taxi now. I apologise things weren’t properly organised earlier.’ She took a step towards the door, then abruptly backtracked and grabbed hold of her husband. David was still fastening his fly as she dragged him into the corridor.
‘We ought to leave too,’ Nathan murmured into my ear. His grip had relaxed a fraction, allowing me the freedom to move. ‘Ease forward slowly. We don’t need to show him anything.’
Curiously, the thought of Victor’s gaze upon my naked bottom sparked excitement rather than horror. I actually didn’t mind that he wanted to watch. Interesting, considering Nathan, the man who usually loved being watched, was itching to get away.
‘Lyssa,’ Nathan prompted.
‘I meant it. Don’t feel you have to spoil your fun because of me,’ Victor remarked. If the fun hadn’t already been over, I might have taken him at his word, but Nathan’s erection had shrunk and was now safely tucked up behind his fly.
‘Another time,’ I said, as if we were likely to cross paths again under similar circumstances.
‘Definitely.’ Victor flashed me a sinful smile, showing just a hint of teeth that seemed to convert my throwaway remark into a promise.
‘What the devil did you say that for?’ Nathan barked, once he’d bundled me into the corridor. ‘Lord knows what sort of nutcase you’ve encouraged. Next thing you know he’ll be stalking you.’ I didn’t think Victor was a nutcase, but Nathan barely let me get a word in until we’d reached the foyer, and then only to enquire if I had everything before we got into the waiting taxi. I was willing to bet it was meant for Victor, but Nathan didn’t seem to care.
‘Actually, no.’ I paused at the top of the entrance steps, forcing Nathan to backtrack in order to find out what the problem was. As a consequence of being dragged from the room, I’d managed to leave my handbag behind. ‘Purse,’ I explained.
‘Oh, blinking hell, Lys!’
‘It’s not your problem,’ I snarled back.
‘Get in the cab. I’ll fetch it.’
I nearly did, until I realised going home sans keys and cash would be completely pointless. ‘You get in,’ I insisted. ‘My keys are in my purse.’ That and it plain made more sense for me to fetch my bag. I knew where I’d left it for starters, and nor was I quite so desperate to flee into the night. ‘Go home, Nathan. I’ll get Sam to phone me another taxi. We’ll catch up later in the week.’
For a moment I thought he was going to be belligerent about it. Nathan could be remarkably stubborn on occasion. His eyebrows were drawn low and his lips had formed a sour line. ‘Go. Honest, I’ll be fine.’ I was a big girl and I knew how to find my way home. Nor was I half as tipsy as I’d been an hour ago.
‘Oi! You getting in, or what, mate?’ the cabbie hollered.
‘All right,’ Nathan gave in with a sigh. He kissed my cheek. ‘I’ll see you Friday. Stay safe.’ He clearly wasn’t pleased to be leaving me behind, but he got into the cab.
I was already back inside the building by the time they pulled away.
Victor occupied almost exactly the same spot I’d stood in moments before when I returned to the green room. He turned slowly when he saw my reflection so that we were facing when I walked towards him. ‘I forgot my purse,’ I explained.
He bent and retrieved the item from the sofa, then held it out to me.
‘Thanks.’
‘No problem.’
Really, that’s where the conversation ought to have ended. Except, let’s just say that on second inspection, my interest was doubly piqued.
Victor Alexander was not a traditionally handsome man, but he was definitely a striking one. It was more than just his clothes. He was slender as a willow, and angular, almost to the point of being gangly, with thick collar-length black hair. Yet it was his very loose-limbed eccentricity that made him interesting. What captured me at that moment though, were his eyes – eyes full of icy flames. Looking at him made me believe in Jack Frost and the Snow Queen, and conjured images of ice palaces and romping before roaring fires wrapped in bearskins.
What’s more, not only did I suddenly want to inhabit those snowy vistas with him; I suspected he felt exactly the same way.
‘Was there something else?’ he asked in response to my lack of movement.
‘No, that’s everything.’ I shook myself out of my stupor and tucked my purse under one arm. ‘Well, goodbye again,’ I remarked, turning away.
‘You know it really wasn’t my intention to spoil your birthday.’
I turned back again, and he nodded towards the ridiculous pink birthday badge Nathan had insisted on pinning to my dress.
‘That’s OK. You haven’t – yet.’
‘Yet?’ He grinned and I couldn’t help but reciprocate. ‘That rather implies that I’m about to.’ He sat down, so I did too.
‘Depends,’ I remarked cryptically. God knows what I was thinking, but considering the way he was making my insides fizz just by looking at me, I’d be a fool not to try to draw this out.
He pressed his index finger across his lips. ‘On what?’
‘Whether you’re going to kiss me?’ Now I was being downright naughty, perhaps even too outrageous for his sensibilities. Really, I knew nothing about him. The thing was I’d seen this film once, where the girl says to the guy ‘we should have sex’, within
