on the table so her delectable chest filled his vision, a distraction he indulged in for a dizzying split second.
‘I understand you have...issues. Who doesn’t? But, this—’ she waved her hand between them, as if the constant crackle of sexual tension were a living breathing, visible thing ‘—isn’t going away. I’m not letting my brother down because you can’t separate sex from business.’
He sputtered, almost choking on his wine. Could she separate the two? A small smile tugged his mouth. It had been a very long time since anyone had surprised him as much as she had. Damn. Another magnificent point in her favour. And bringing talk back to the reason they couldn’t stop looking at each other with lusty eyes—genius. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
‘So, I think we should find a way to work this from our systems.’ Reaching for her wine, she took another slug. ‘Now, please show me where I can change into something more appropriate for clubbing.’
Change...? No way.
He swept his eyes over her perfectly adequate, flesh-covering outfit. If she emerged in another of those flirty dresses that showcased her phenomenal body...
Doomed.
Again, her long legs featured in an X-rated fantasy—naked, draped over his shoulders, the heels of her shoes digging into his back... If he were to break his one-time rule to quench the insatiable fire, it would just be sex, until the flames dwindled.
With a resigned sigh, he directed her towards the restroom at the rear of the plane. He couldn’t argue with her logic, though. Where their intense, combustive attraction was concerned, they were all out of options.
* * *
‘Jacob, good to see you, man.’ His old friend Lucas slapped him on the back with a shoulder bump and slid his delighted smile over Ash’s shoulder to take in Essie. Ash had been right to fear her change of outfit.
She’d emerged from the plane’s bathroom wearing a wisp of black silk that hugged her breasts and hips like a second skin and completely bared her back. A pair of skyscraper heels completed the visual suffering. She’d even scooped her swathe of golden hair up into some sort of relaxed up-do so the gorgeous translucent skin of her neck, shoulders and back paraded for his greedy eyes.
She’d sat opposite him for the remainder of the flight engrossed in her ever-present phone while he’d indulged in his lurid imaginings.
Further conversation was off the table, not because he wasn’t curious to know more about her past—which not only held her in its grip, but seemed to have guided her choice of career—but because he feared she’d turn the spotlight on him. Pick apart his freshly opened wound with her insightful, analytical psychologist’s mind.
He’d tried to get some work done, but the words on his screen had blurred in and out of focus. His mind had reeled from her scent and every time she’d shifted in her seat and he’d caught a glimpse of another sliver of skin, he’d had to dig his short nails into the leather of the arm rests to stop himself from peeling her out of the dress that had become an implement of torture.
Lucas, already endowed with that effortless French charm, looked at Essie as if he possessed X-ray vision and could clearly see the delights the dress barely concealed. Well, fuck that. For as long as it took to extinguish this all-consuming need—one surely brought on by something in the English water—Ash would be the only one sampling anything Essie had to offer.
While he’d tied himself in knots, fucking around with trust and rules and control, the answer had been staring him in the face all this time. He was never more composed than when in the bedroom. She’d said she could separate sex from their professional relationship. Time to test the theory. A win-win situation.
Ash placed his hand in the small of her back, wincing when she turned a sharp glance his way, presumably with the shock. He didn’t need to explain his actions—he was done fighting this forest fire of need—and she’d suggested he take the driving seat. Time to buckle up, Ms Newbold.
‘Lucas, this is Essie Newbold, my manager. I’ve told her all about La Voute, so thanks for the tour.’ Now he wished he’d simply brought her to the club anonymously, because all he wanted to do was get her away from Lucas and onto the packed dance floor so he could legitimately put his hands on her some more and draw her close enough to feel those nipples.
Lucas laughed, took Essie’s hand and pressed it to his lips.
Smooth bastard.
He held out his arm and directed them to the bar. ‘The best way to enjoy La Voute is to experience it.’
The barman had clearly been pre-warned, because, on seeing the boss, he brought over a tray of luminous shots that glowed in the neon lighting as if radioactive.
‘The house speciality. Enjoy.’ Lucas handed one to Essie and, without taking his eyes from her, swallowed the second. ‘I’ve reserved you a VIP booth upstairs.’ Lucas replaced his empty shot glass on the tray and nodded to the barman. ‘Make yourselves at home, drink whatever you want and, if you have any questions, you know where to find me.’ He shook Ash’s hand, which rolled into a fist when he turned to Essie and kissed both of her cheeks.
Ash forced a smile, a move that almost cracked his jaw, the tension in his facial muscles was so pronounced. He downed the shot and jerked his chin at the barman to indicate another round, getting himself back under control. He never succumbed to such puerile emotions as jealousy. What was she doing to him? Perhaps the extreme self-denial had infected his common sense.
‘This is fantastic.’ Essie’s eyes sparkled as she bobbed in time to the music. She’d stood on tiptoes to yell in his ear but she hadn’t touched him.
Ash nodded, his eyes dancing over the unselfconscious sway of her body to the beat.
‘You asked Josh to create a house cocktail. I liked that. What else do you want to do to The Yard?’
Her wary eyes warmed at his simple compliment. ‘I love that graffiti art over there.’ She pointed to a wall of exposed brick decorated with vibrant tagging. ‘We could do that in the basement, get an artist in. Use neon paint so it glows in the UV light.’
He nodded and bent closer, although he’d heard her just fine. His own lips were only millimetres from her ear so her delectable scent curled around him like an aphrodisiac cloud.
‘He’s right.’ He flicked his head in the direction Lucas had disappeared. ‘Clubs like this have the X-factor. We should immerse ourselves, while we’re here.’ He handed her the second shot and tossed back his own with a grin of challenge. ‘Let’s dance.’
She eyed him while she slowly pressed the rim of the shot glass to her plump bottom lip, holding it suspended there for what seemed like an age, taking his stare captive. At the last second, the tip of her pink tongue poked out and dipped into the blue opaque drink. And then she tossed it, slammed the glass bottom up on the bar and turned for the dance floor with a sassy sway of her hips.
He groaned, adding seriously fucking sexy to her growing list of attributes. Ash followed, walking with his hard-on torture. He took Essie’s elbow to keep them together as they weaved through the crowds. The crush of bodies moving under the strobe lights hemmed them in on all sides, forcing them to dance in the bubble of close personal space that suited his intentions just fine.
