Читать книгу Santa Baby: 5 Sexy Reads For Cold Winter Nights - Charlotte Phillips, Charlotte Phillips - Страница 11

He caught up with her by the exit, as she walked through the spa bar, cheeks still pink as she attempted to pull off a swift exit.

‘Dinner?’ he said, clearly not remotely put off by the cold shower.

She carried on walking, heading back through to the lobby while her heart made a mad sprint. Even without their history, he was asking her to dinner, and there was that niggling little question of when she’d last been asked out. Two years was it now? Liz would know, she was always trying to pressgang her into dates she didn’t want. But her heart could sprint as much as it pleased, there were rules to be adhered to here, rules that she lived by for very good reasons and Tom Henley was a clear-cut case.

For speed, she figuratively threw Liz at him as an excuse instead of giving him the full on broken down reason that dinner was a non-starter, not least because her list of life rules seemed to bring out the exasperation in those of her friends that knew about them.

‘It’s been lovely to see you,’ she breezed, ‘but my friend should be arriving any time now and I really need to get properly settled in the room. And then of course we’ll be busy, shopping, sightseeing, you know how it is.’

Her mobile burst into life in her jeans pocket and she fumbled it out. Perfect timing. The screen informed her it was Liz. Obviously she must have arrived at Paddington and was checking in with a progress report. She flashed Tom Henley a confident see-how-busy-I-am roll of her eyes, and picked up. The line was awful. She came to a standstill on the thick pile carpet and moved to one side of the corridor to let other guests pass. Tom Henley didn’t excuse himself, simply leaned against the wall and watched her with an amused expression in his slate grey eyes.

‘You sound like you’re shut in a fridge,’ Ella said.

‘That isn’t so far from the truth.’

She had to focus hard to hear Liz’s voice over the background crackle.

‘You’re where?’

Surprise made Ella forget herself and exclaim without thinking and she clocked, a second too late, his eyebrows raising almost imperceptibly.

There went her perfect excuse.

Liz’s voice was faint.

‘I’m in a train carriage somewhere between Newark and some other station at the ends of the bloody earth, waiting for someone to rescue me. And the buffet car’s just run out of coffee.’

‘How long are you likely to be?’

She turned her body away toward the wall and tried to talk into the phone without moving her lips while Tom made no attempt whatsoever to avert his eyes or look busy. Instead he was watching her, a small smile touching the corners of his mouth. For Pete’s sake, where were his manners? He couldn’t have eavesdropped more openly if he’d grabbed her mobile and pressed speakerphone.

‘It isn’t looking good.’ Liz’s voice was apologetic.

Conscious of his eyes on her, she took a few paces away from him, out of earshot and lowering her voice just to be sure, although why she was bothering she had no idea. It was perfectly clear that her big fob-off was trapped in the snow somewhere up North.

‘You can’t give up,’ she pleaded through gritted teeth. ‘I need you here. I’ve bumped into some guy from my past, we had a…’ she searched for the right word. Just exactly what had they had? ‘…fling,’ she said eventually. ‘A few years ago. He’s asked me out to dinner.’

She couldn’t bring herself to mention their more recent steamy (literally) encounter in the spa. It had been a lapse of judgement, nothing more. He’d caught her off-guard.

‘And that’s bad because?’

‘Because I don’t do the past. You know I don’t.’

That attitude had afforded her a lot of face-saving and bravado in the past. It was tried and tested.

‘That’s just some stupid principle, Ella. It doesn’t mean you’re incapable of it.’

She might have known Liz wouldn’t see it her way. Her friend was forever trying to fit her up with blind dates.

‘You would say that though, wouldn’t you?’ she countered. ‘You and Alfie are on-again off-again so often I can’t keep track.’

‘That’s how the rest of us do it, Ella,’ Liz said patiently. ‘It’s called give and take. That’s how you get to know someone.’ A pause, then, ‘what’s he like?’

Ella glanced back down the corridor at him. Tom smiled at her and nodded and her stomach gave another of those small melty flips. She tightened her grip on the phone.

‘Too good-looking for his own good and won’t take no for an answer,’ she said out of the corner of her mouth. ‘What are the chances of you getting here tonight?’

Liz’s laughter was just audible over the crackly line.

‘Tonight? Try the whole weekend. Have you seen the forecast? Imagine a snowball in hell and then lengthen the odds. By a mile. I’m getting back home before we resort to eating the weak.’

‘For Pete’s sake, Liz!’

‘It’ll do you good,’ her so-called friend said. ‘When did you last have a date? And look at it this way, if it’s as bloody freezing there as it is here, at least you’ll have someone to share body warmth with to survive.’

***

A couple of days stuck in the snow in London had suddenly taken a very nice turn for the better.

‘Have dinner with me tonight,’ he said again, as soon as she pocketed the phone.

‘I can’t.’

‘Why not? Your better offer is stuck in the snow somewhere for the rest of the weekend.’

‘That was a private conversation.’

He shrugged and grinned.

‘Yeah well, it was kind of hard to miss. Come on, you’re on your own now, I’m offering to buy you dinner. What exactly is it that you’re afraid of?’

‘I’m not afraid!’ she snapped.

‘Then what?’

She looked down at her fingers.

He watched as she took a deep breath before the knockback, not that he had any intention of taking no for an answer, no matter how many times or how many different ways she said it.

‘I don’t do the same situation twice,’ she said.

‘Living in the moment.’ he said, holding her hazel gaze. ‘Of course. I get that.’ That had been something else so enthralling about her all that time ago. Unlike him, with his mapped out future and responsibilities, she’d had no agenda, no grand life plan other than to squeeze every drop out of every single experience she had. The memory of what that had meant in bed made heat begin to simmer in his veins. ‘But still we didn’t part on bad terms back then. Where would be the harm in us having dinner?’

Gentle fob-off clearly wasn’t working so she cut to the chase.

‘I just have rules about that kind of thing,’ she blurted. ‘Life rules.’

He was staring at her as if he thought she might be insane.

‘Life rules,’ he repeated.

She emphasised each point by counting them off on her fingers.

‘I never go over old ground. I don’t do the same situation twice. The past is the past. I leave it there and I only ever look forward – which are actually all the same rule said in different ways but that’s how important they are to me’

She held his gaze boldly for a moment, giving him a chance to process.

‘What kind of nutty way to live your life is that?’ he said at last.

‘You can mock if you like but it’s actually stood me in good stead.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s nothing personal. We had a great time but it was over with five Christmases ago.’

She held her hand up, five fingers extended, to press the point even further.

‘You’re knocking me back because of some crazy life rules? Is this some recent thing? How come you never mentioned them when we last met?’

‘I didn’t need to mention them then. It was the first time around.’

She saw exasperation fight with determination on his face. Apparently determination won because he came right back with a different approach. She had to hand it to him, he didn’t give in easily. Most men she came across who showed an interest were easy to discourage with a firm no. Not that she was particularly snowed under in that department, her last date having been a brief affair months ago.

‘You do realise you’re working against higher elements here,’ he said.

‘What?’

She looked at him through narrowed eyes.

‘Fate,’ he said. He was watching her intently. ‘Think about it. Everything about this encounter is down to luck. How many probabilities do you think we’ve bucked here?’ He began to count off on his fingers. ‘You’re here because of a competition win, must be thousands of entrants, and now your mate can’t make it through and you’re here alone. Pure chance. And me? White Christmas in the UK. When did we last have one of those?’

She couldn’t stop a smile at his refusal to give in. Obviously taking it as a sign of weakening, he leaned in towards her. She caught the clean woody scent of his shower damp hair. ‘We were meant to meet again and do you really want to be the one to slap fate in the chops?’

‘Fate, in my experience has a crap sense of humour,’ she said. ‘Best not to engage with it at all. I control my life, not the other way around.’

‘I’m asking you to have dinner with me not jump into bed with me,’ he countered.

She could feel her heart quicken, because wasn’t there a part of her that wanted dinner? Wanted more than dinner? That brief hot encounter in the steam room still held her body in its grip. In terms of physical want and need, wasn’t there something about him now that felt…unfinished?

Her mind, not completely turned to mush by his stomach-softening lopsided smile, and by what he could do with his hands, took the opportunity to remind her that however lightly she might portray it now, walking away back then had been no picnic. It had been a bit of a wrench in fact. By the end of that night she had been smitten and there had been a part of her that wanted to swap addresses, make future plans, see how it went. But her resolution had never truly faltered because she didn’t need a crystal ball to know how things would turn out if she did.

Tom Henley was from a different world. Back then and still now. It could never have lasted. Why taint the perfect night by trying to prolong it? Long-term happiness could not be built on a chance encounter. OK so they might have made a strong connection, but it was still just a one-night stand. And she knew better than anyone that you couldn’t build a future on one of those. Not the kind of future that fostered happiness at least.

Why resurrect all this now? It had been neatly filed away in her past and Ella Scott didn’t do the past. She did the future, she did optimism, she turned a fresh new page every day and made her own happiness because she couldn’t rely on anyone else to do it for her.

‘It isn’t about dinner or about sex,’ she said. ‘It’s about principles. Something that’s great the first time around shouldn’t be revisited. You shouldn’t mess with perfection, it will only be a let down in the long run. Nothing’s ever better the second time around.’ She gave him a breezy smile as she walked away. ‘I hope your plane is rescheduled quickly and you have a good journey.’

‘You’re wrong,’ he called after her.

She turned back and looked him straight in the eye. He was staring at her as if he thought she might be crazy, so she took a couple of paces closer so he could see she was serious.

‘Classic movie remakes,’ she said. ‘The first time you visit Paris. Horrible cover versions of great songs. First kisses. Amazing meals. A new book.’ She paused and added, ‘Relationships.’ She stood for a moment looking at him. ‘It was a perfect night, a fantastic memory. How the hell could I possibly improve on it? Why would I want to?’ She gave him a parting smile. ‘I’m sorry. It was nice to meet you again but I never should have let it get beyond a quick hello.’

****

So he was a fantastic memory? His pride took a well-needed boost from that comment because for a while there as she gave him the brush off despite the way she’d melted into him in the spa, he’d been wondering if he was losing his touch. He’d wondered exactly the same thing five years ago in the weeks following that cold morning after a mind-blowing night when he’d woken up to an empty bed.

Finding out that the abrupt end of their time together had been down to her own reasons alone, completely insane though they were, was threaded through with relief that it hadn’t been down to something lacking in him or his performance. And if it had been a perfect night and a fantastic memory he was surely in with a chance of talking her into a second round.

A winning smile for someone called Lucy at the reception desk was enough to get her room number.