minutes later, fizzing over with the prolonged wait, she caved and beckoned Darren over.
There was no harm in putting things in motion.
‘You’re not ready for another?’
She grinned, high on the thrill. ‘Please...’
He chuckled. ‘Okay.’
Placing a fancy tray of bar snacks in front of her, he set about making her drink.
She eyed the food, her tummy growling. She’d missed dinner again. Taking up a few snacks, she savoured one before asking, ‘Do you know what Mr Distraction is drinking?’
He sent her a knowing look. ‘You wanting to send him one?’
‘Maybe...’ Playfully, she popped in another snack, chewing over it and relishing the instant hit of salt. ‘So, come on—do you know?’
He smiled as he worked, his eyes flicking briefly to the man in question. ‘He’s a J&B man.’
She licked her lips clean, her eyes flitting to Smoking Hot Guy, and then to his bottle of choice on the shelf. Hot Wealthy Guy... J&B... An image of the hottie in American Psycho flashed before her eyes and she swallowed, hard.
Okay, Okay...yes, you want a night of crazy, but maybe you should know something about him first.
‘What’s got you looking so serious?’ Darren asked, picking up on her shift in mood.
‘I was just wondering...’ Her voice trailed off as she considered the talented bartender. Darren knew everyone that came and went. ‘What do you know of him?’
‘Can’t tell you much.’ He strained the liquid into a fresh glass. ‘I’ve not seen him before, but there were some guys at the bar talking about him earlier. Recognised him from some article or other.’
Her ears pricked up. ‘An article?’
‘Yeah, you know the sort—one of those professional mags, I reckon.’ He popped an olive in the glass and placed it before her. ‘He’s a CEO in the technology field.’
She sucked on the inside of her lip, suppressing the surge of excitement. No CEO was going to turn out to be a nutcase.
‘Well, fancy that...’
‘You sure do.’
She grinned and plucked the olive from the glass, popping it between her lips as her eyes hit Smoking Hot Guy’s.
Damn sure I do!
IF HE HAD to watch her pop another olive in her mouth, her eyes alive with wicked suggestion... He circled the rim of his glass with his index finger, the move rhythmically in line with the heat coiling through him.
He really should’ve left when he’d got the bail-out text from Andrews. Instead he’d sent a brief acknowledgement wrapped up in a warning.
Be at the solicitor’s nine a.m. prompt for contract exchange or else.
And then he’d settled back.
He really should’ve been more annoyed too, but it was fascinating what the sight of a blazing-eyed redhead enjoying her fill at the bar could do. And he wasn’t just referring to the olives—there were the bar snacks too. Whatever they were, they had her licking her lips and her fingers with such teasing that between that and the olive-sucking his lower body couldn’t get a let-up.
And, Christ, those eyes—they pierced him from across the room. The warm lighting of the bar glinted off their depraved depths as they came back to him again and again, demanding his attention, drawing him in, giving him hope that she wasn’t waiting for someone else to appear.
She was chatting to the barman now, her perfectly poised body leaning in as they exchanged words, their easy flow of conversation suggesting she was probably a regular. The guy nodded to her and moved away, freeing her once more, and he sensed her attention returning to him. His breath halting, his hand paused over his glass. And then her mobile lit up and her eyes dropped to it. She gave a flicker of annoyance and then a smile. She tapped at it and placed it back on the bar.
Now her eyes came to him and, fuck, were they calling.
His gut clenched, his jaw tightened and the room disappeared. Something had changed.
‘For you, sir.’
Not now. Grudgingly, he looked to the voice and found the blonde waitress hovering, a tray with a lone drink resting upon her palm.
‘J&B.’ She took hold of the glass and bent to place it on the table. ‘From the lady at the bar.’
His gaze dropped to the glass and he smiled.
Hell, Andrews, you’ve actually done me a favour.
* * *
From her elevated vantage point upon the bar stool she watched him straighten and plant his feet, the move sending her heart into her throat.
Oh, yes, come for me...
He lifted his glass off the table and started towards her, his tall, imposing frame filling her vision, his eyes lighting up every nerve-ending in their path as they raked appreciatively over her.
She turned on her stool to face him, sipping at her drink as she waited until he was within earshot, and then she smiled. ‘It’s lovely of you to join me.’
He tilted his glass. ‘I wanted to thank you for the drink.’
Wow, that voice. She drew a breath as her body flared. It was deep, husky, rough...the perfect mix for a body that exuded power. And that accent—she couldn’t place it, but it was there, teasing her.
‘And I wanted to thank you for improving my outlook this evening.’
He rewarded her with that easy grin, his eyes sparking and pulling her in. They were the colour of chocolate, the dark and rich kind, and they were on fire, burning into her as he said, ‘You and me both.’
‘Is that so?’
‘You know so.’
‘I know no such thing.’
He gave a small chuckle and reached past her, placing his glass on the bar. She twisted into his arm on impulse, felt his scent invading her, the heady masculine cologne sending lust slamming into her core.
‘Perhaps I can convince you over another drink?’ He leant back against the bar-edge. ‘What can I get you?’
What could he get her?
She
