we expecting anyone else?’ she asked blandly.
‘No,’ came the equally bland response. She sat down and made to fasten her seat belt. Suddenly she stopped. Reaching underneath her, she pulled out a half-eaten pack of now very squashed raisins. Wordlessly she passed them to him.
‘Oh, good,’ he said, taking them with a pleased smile. ‘I was wondering where they went. Supper.’
She couldn’t help but glance at his left hand resting on the steering wheel. No ring, no obvious tan mark. Beautiful long fingers, neatly trimmed nails, a broad palm. She shivered and looked away. This was Karl wasn’t it? The incorrigible flirt? Confirmed bachelor and man about town? This definitely didn’t go with the image.
‘It’s my sister’s car.’ He finally offered an explanation. ‘Mine wasn’t available and so I borrowed hers. She has three kids. Messy ones.’
‘Oh, nice for you.’ She clicked her seat belt into place. ‘So what kind of car do you usually drive, then?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Oh, I dunno. Some sporty thing. Fast, flash, something to wow the ladies.’
‘I don’t need to rely on a car to wow the ladies,’ he said suavely.
‘Oh, really?’ She couldn’t help laughing.
He shook his head at her, laughter lighting his eyes so they glowed, burning into her.
‘So what?’ she asked with tart humour. ‘You just rely on your dashing good looks, amazing physique, rapier-like wit and charm?’
‘D, all of the above.’ He nodded seriously.
She bet he did. He had all of those attributes in abundance.
‘Now, where are we going?’
She looked at him in confusion before realising they’d been sitting there a couple of minutes and he hadn’t started the engine yet.
‘Oh, St Katharine’s Dock, Tower Hill.’
He looked at her with raised brows, turning the key in the ignition. ‘I thought it would have been Earl’s Court or Shepherds Bush. Isn’t that where all you Kiwis and Aussies hang out?’
‘Maybe.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m not into that scene.’
‘Avoiding your country folk?’ He edged the car out of the garage and into the line of traffic.
‘No, but if I wanted to spend all my time going to antipodean pubs and hanging out with other New Zealanders I wouldn’t have bothered leaving New Zealand in the first place.’
‘Running away from something?’
‘Running to something,’ she corrected. ‘Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t like New Zealand, I love it, but I wanted to travel and experience London. It’s such a great city.’ She sighed happily.
‘So you chose St Katharine’s Dock?’ They were driving along Embankment, and she couldn’t help but enjoy the famous buildings as they slid past.
‘Yeah.’ She smiled. ‘Not in one of those amazing waterside warehouse conversions though. There’s an old estate just at the back of them. I have a teeny flat there. It’s fantastic. You know, I walk past the Tower of London every day on my way to work and every time it just hits me: I’m in London! It’s awesome.’
‘It’s really such a dream for you?’
‘Oh, yeah. It’s all those years of having to watch Coronation Street, I guess.’
‘Coronation Street?’ he echoed blankly. ‘But that’s Manchester!’
She giggled. ‘Oh, Eastenders, then, whatever. All those royal variety shows; we get them all, you know.’ She turned to look at him, wanting him to understand. ‘It’s so great here. Anything you want to do you can do in London, everything is here for the taking.’ She gestured widely with her hands.
He looked at her and smiled straight back into her eyes, and her breath caught, he had the most magnificent smile. Her heartbeat accelerated alarmingly. She looked away, hurriedly dampening the attraction raging in her.
‘You sound like such a tourist, all that fresh-eyed enthusiasm,’ he teased.
‘What’s wrong with that? It’s good to have some passion.’ Flirt alert—she willed serenity to return to her mind and body.
‘I agree. Are you as enthusiastic and passionate in other areas of life?’
She threw him a mock-evil look knowing she’d asked for that one. He grinned wickedly back at her.
She took a breath and played safe. ‘I love walking past the Tower each day, laughing at those other tourists getting ripped off by the most expensive ice-cream man in the world!’
‘Really?’ He laughed.
She nodded. ‘He has his van there by Dead Man’s Hole. The most shocking prices.’
‘Hmm. But I bet he’s not as expensive as the gelato man by Ponte Vecchio in Florence.’
‘Really? In Florence?’ She sighed longingly. ‘I didn’t make it there. I’d love to go.’
‘It’s beautiful. I’ll take you.’
She raised a brow at him, hoping her façade was as cool as her insides were hot. ‘Will you, now?’
He nodded. ‘You have to see Botticelli’s Venus. You’re a dead ringer.’
There was a silence as she absorbed the compliment. Botticelli’s masterpiece hung in the Uffizi gallery. His depiction of Venus was one of the world’s most famous works of art. Generation after generation admired the beauty of her. Lissa was amused, ‘incorrigible flirt’ was definitely the way to describe this guy. The trouble was, she couldn’t help but enjoy it.
‘Oh, you are good,’ she cooed.
He smiled back winningly. ‘And is it working?’
Yes, she thought, most definitely. ‘That’s for me to know…’ she began.
‘And for me to find out,’ he finished. ‘Good.’
What did ‘good’ mean? Had she just issued the man a challenge?
They entered St Katharine’s Dock and she directed him to her building. Part of her wanted to escape the car as quickly as possible, but a good half of her wanted to stay and explore ‘possibilities’ with Karl as Gina had suggested. Then again, he might not really be interested. He might just have been working on his ‘rapier-like wit and charm’. She glanced at him and realised he was watching her, an amused smile flitting around the corners of his mouth.
She stiffened. Had her internal debate been written all over her face? Probably. She strove for dignity. ‘Thanks very much for the ride home. It was very kind of you.’
