almost suffocating her and raised her eyes to Ash’s.
Now he’d think her some sort of ingénue when really she’d simply tolerated mediocre for far too long.
He turned to face her, drawing her closer with the arm banded around her waist while his glittering blue stare danced over her features. ‘Okay...’
No judgment. Only the heat she’d seen in his eyes most of the afternoon.
The sizzle and spark over lunch at the funky deli had turned into flirting around Piccadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square, where Essie had provided a ‘how to’ tutorial on travelling the Tube. Flirting had turned to inhibition-lowering drinking at a typical Victorian Soho pub, where Ash had insisted they sample pints of tepid real ale, which was strong enough to make Essie both giggly and bold. Which was probably how they’d come to their current location—on the pavement outside his hotel, with his arms around her and her lips tingling to kiss him.
Still she wavered, caught between lust and caution.
She wanted to slap herself. Her doubts, her desperation to get it right where her parents had got it so wrong, hadn’t helped her avoid heartache. She’d just had one bad experience...
Ash didn’t have to be the perfect man—he could be perfect for now, this one night. Then she’d never see him again. And she could try out her sexually sophisticated legs.
Ash smiled, his blue eyes sparkling with promise and his yummy mouth stretching in a sexy, lopsided way.
Full lips so close.
Warm breath laced with hops.
Shrugging off the last reservation, Essie stood on tiptoes and kissed him, right there in the street where people walked around them. For a second he seemed frozen, his stubble chafing her chin and his lips slightly parted as she feathered the lightest of kisses on his beautiful mouth. And then his hand found the small of her back, pressing her close as he took control, angling his head and orchestrating the slide and thrust of lips and tongues, a thrilling concerto that left her head light and her legs weak.
Wow. The easy-going, considerate gentleman she’d spent the day with had a demanding side. She wanted more. The street snog was so good, her stomach clenched like the final seconds of a free fall, and her heart ricocheted against her ribs.
Ash groaned and pulled back from her kiss, his erection a hard length against her belly. He looked down as if trying to dissect her inner secrets from her irises. ‘Not that I’m bothered...’ he pushed back a stray wisp of hair from her face ‘...but I’m intrigued. Why not?’
Essie captured her lip with her teeth, her insecurities rising like bile. What did she want this sexy tourist to know about her poor track record with the opposite sex? Despite her psychology degree and her PhD in human relationships, her own love life, and most of her non-romantic personal relationships, relied heavily on the theory she pored over for her studies and for her beloved blog, one she’d started as an undergraduate as a way to purge her own feelings of abandonment and constant rejection at the hands of her father.
Ash wanted her; the evidence was crystal clear. Why burst the bubble? Yes, she normally avoided picking up hunky strangers in parks. But once he’d cracked his first genuine smile, Ash had relaxed into a fun, smart and entertaining guy. She hadn’t confessed she lived in South East London and was soon to graduate from her PhD. She’d merely gone along with his wrong assumption—that she, like him, was a tourist. It added to the mystique, the risqué recklessness currently pounding through her blood and fanning her libido to a blaze.
But they’d never see each other again after tonight. Who better to take off her training wheels with than a sexy stranger, a temporary tourist, soon to be on a plane to a whole other continent?
While Ash fingered the end of her ponytail, waiting, Essie shrugged. ‘My male role model growing up was an unreliable, lying shit. It kind of put me off men.’ Oversimplified, but true. She’d spent years trying to fit her subpar relationship with her ex into a perfect mould, desperate to have the opposite of her parents’ dysfunctional union and determined to flex her psychology muscles and prove she could practise what she preached. But when she’d finally conceded that the emotionally abusive relationship she’d pinned all her hopes on was over, she’d given up on her own happily-ever-after and shelved finding love, preferring instead to focus on helping others with their relationships through her blog.
‘I’m a man.’
Wasn’t he just? She nodded, stopping short of rolling her eyes back at the solid hard bulk of him pressed against her. ‘You are.’
She knew enough about human interactions to know there was more to Ash than the charming backpacker, despite appearances. For a start, he was older than the typical traveller, she guessed early thirties. Although casually dressed in slightly rumpled clothing, he carried himself with that air of command, confidence and authority that was such a turn-on—she practically had drool on her chin. That he was bothering to explore the reasons behind her hesitancy instead of ramming his tongue down her throat or hurrying her inside faster than he could say ‘God Save the Queen’ was another astounding point in his favour.
But the less she knew about him, the easier it would be to walk away. When she left in the morning, she’d feel satisfied no boundaries had been crossed, no misunderstandings had been created and no feelings had had time to develop.
Mustering every ounce of confidence and female allure, she gripped his biceps and pressed her body closer. ‘Are we on the same page?’ Her limbs twitched while she waited for his confirmation. What if she’d read him all wrong? What if, like her ex, Ash thought her too clingy? Surely he could appreciate the merits of this—they’d never see each other again.
Ash dipped his head, pressing his mouth to hers once more. ‘Totally.’ The word buzzed over her tingling lips and then the tip of his tongue dipped inside. With a surge of lust Essie embraced the kiss, scooping her arms around his neck with renewed enthusiasm.
Please let her be right about his sexual talents.
When she pulled back, breathless, she registered her surroundings. They’d come to a stop outside a rather upmarket hotel in St James’s. She looked up at Ash, her eyes round.
‘Is this where you’re staying?’ She’d guessed that he was more than he’d seemed in the park, but wealthy...?
He shrugged, a playful twitch on his lips.
Yes, Ash had offered to pay for her sandwich at lunch, but after she’d insisted on paying for herself, he’d accepted they’d be going Dutch for the rest of the day. He hadn’t flashed money around—a definite turn-off for Essie, who had what her flatmate called money issues.
He released his grip on her waist and Essie missed his touch instantly. ‘I know the owner. I’m only here tonight.’ He placed his index finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. ‘Changed your mind? It’s okay if you have.’
So considerate.
Her body was still fully on board with spending the night with this ruggedly handsome stranger. And did it matter if he had rich, hotel-owning friends? She wouldn’t know him long enough to confess her monetary hang-ups, ones that originated with her absent father, who used affluent bribes and constant gifts as a substitute for investing quality time in his only daughter’s life.
A shudder snaked down her spine.
