Instruction in Seduction (13 page)

Sally watched Johnny’s enthusiasm with open admiration. Ailsa clocked it.

Ailsa had known Johnny a long time; she’d rarely seen him this switched in. Ailsa could only admire Sally too now that she got a chance to get to know her. They already laughed at the same jokes, admired the same books and shops.

She looked up then to see Nick glaring at his plate and jab at his seared salmon like he was out for revenge.

“Never count your chickens. Not until the cheques are in the post,” said Nick and the atmosphere took a nose dive.

“Everything okay for everyone?” Sally checked.

“Wonderful,” they said in unison. Nick looked leagues from impressed.

Sally and Nick were similar in many ways. The dark glossy hair, intense eyes, showstopper smiles. She was young, easy going, hard working, vibrant. Ailsa wondered why she needed Nick’s help so much in getting business back on track? She seemed capable enough.

Was her overly protective brother getting it all ever so slightly wrong here?
Was he a control freak of the highest order?

“Why don’t you drop in for lunch sometime,” enthused Sally. “For quality girl time.”

Ailsa grinned, “That’d be great.”

“Very cosy,” Nick replied darkly. “I’m sure Ailsa’s schedule is busy enough without obligations. She has a knack for keeping herself busy I’ve heard. Even if it’s in inappropriate diversions.”

She took a chance later between courses when Sally and Johnny left the table for Johnny to visit the kitchens, to make her feelings known.

“If you want me gone just say. You’re sending a good evening down the pan.”

He whispered harshly, “Just when I think I know you I realise I don’t know you at all.” He glared across the table. “I hear that you’re out tonight man-hunting. That you’ve come up with some list. Nice to make me feel like I’ve been ticked and dealt with.”

Ailsa sighed, “Is that what this is about? Excuse me for having a life. I’m meeting Lisa who happens to be blue and wants a shoulder to cry on. And who made you my personal life spy?” She reached out to touch his arm but he pulled away sharply.

“You come here all dressed up, acting like last night never happened.” There was a fire in his eyes. A fire that made her breath catch. Sexy and dangerous. The list was just a bit of fun. Something she’d done on a whim. She hadn’t imagined he’d find out about it; let alone care. “The list was the icing insult that topped the cake.”

“How did you know about it?”

“My network of spies. Andy. He heard Lisa talking about it when he popped by to pick up stuff.”

Had she made him feel so small he’d come here tonight in five shades of fury because of her?

“Nick we’ll talk later,” Ailsa said sensing the others were returning and tuning into their conversation.

Nick simply glared back. “Oh what’s the use…” he pushed his napkin roughly away and swore under his breath. “Do I have to spell it out here? You made me feel used. I’ll get a cab and leave you to your night of pleasure,” Nick announced.

She’d barely taken a sip of her coffee. It lay temptingly in front of her and Sally’s face showed her brother trampled her feelings by storming out.

Ailsa just sat and watched him leave.

She felt like when she’d been nineteen. Only worse because now, right now this minute, she’d only just realised, he meant more to her than he ever had before. Even though he was being a prize idiot.

He was only behaving that way because he’d got crossed wires and she’d hurt him. And for that she’d never felt more wretched in her life.

***

Ailsa Murray was the living limit. Nick walked from the top of the Royal

Mile to midpoint with heat burning a hole in his chest. She had to be out to rile him, surely? And he was falling for her as fast as it came.

He might have resisted, but her transformation was knock-out. And their night together was the high-point of his life.

And now he’d gone and played the idiot. Embarrassed himself in front of Ailsa, Sally and Johnny. He’d wanted her to see she’d hurt him but instead he’d only acted the brute, the sullen idiot. He’d needed to escape her potent perfume zone that taunted him that now their night together was a ‘been there, done that’ for Ailsa.

Nick worked some of his fury out in the walk to ‘The Baillie’ where he’d agreed to meet Andy. A bottle of beer greeted his arrival on the bar.

“What’s with the scowl?” Andy asked.

“What you told me about earlier. I want full details.”

Andy looked smug. “I am a man of hidden talents and I know all about this list. Apparently she’d deadly serious in its pursuit.” He produced a piece of paper.

Nick scoffed, then sipped his drink but it tasted bitter.

He scanned the list in his hand, “You stole it? How did you get it?” Nick swigged his beer again needing Dutch courage to face reading it.

“Probably best if you don’t know how. It involved trickery. Use of my spare key and a knowledge of where Ailsa keeps secret stuff. What I don’t know about Lisa and Ailsa you could write on a gnat’s knee-cap.”

“As you said, best not to know about that.”

The list before Nick necessitated a double gulp. It needed re-reading. And

reading again slowly. One thing was for certain; he wasn’t letting this go without

trying to make her see sense first.

Chapter Eight

The Sportsman’s Bar was a sea of bodies and heads and the DJ’s steady thrum euphoric tunes meant the dance floor was already crowded.

Ailsa sipped her spritzer and recrossed her legs on her barstool to endeavour to find a comfortable position, but she knew it was no good. She shouldn’t be here; all she could think of was Nick storming off and how she’d caused that.

There was only one man she really was interested in. And she wouldn’t find him by scouring Edinburgh’s nightspots. She’d hurt Nick more than she wanted to think about through sheer carelessness and self indulgence.

Despite his surly mood earlier, Nick Palmer still had the power to fire the blood in her veins with an electrostatic charge that made adrenaline soar. But her conscience squirmed at the fact that he’d found out about her list and her night out. He’d come to all the wrong conclusions. Hadn’t he realised that last night really had been a journey in sexual exploration on a scale she’d never had before?

It wasn’t that she was dismissing it. More that she was trying to regain equilibrium and recover. It would be too easy to fall for Nick and find herself out of her depth.

Lisa danced on the edge of the dance floor, making blatant eye contact with every good looking man she could spot. It deepened Ailsa’s uneasiness. She rose and went to Lisa there to tell her she’d had enough.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she began. “I’m not in the mood.”

“That’s no way to get moving on that list is it?” Lisa said then gyrated and grabbed Ailsa to join her. It was clear Lisa wasn’t listening as her hips wiggled and she did a sweeping combo of burlesque moves and jazz hands. “Things don’t come to you; you have to seize the moment. Anyway, we’ve just got here. Check him out over there, nice biceps.”

What was the point in trying to distract Lisa? She’d been looking forward to a night free of Andy. Some revenge possibly and certainly some hair down time.

A tall, dark haired man joined her on the dance floor and beckoned Lisa to him. Ailsa realised this could be a long night and walked away back to her seat.

Then she clocked the bar’s entrance and her heart soared; her conscience jolted. Gorgeous, tall, fit, hot and handsome. Nick Palmer in the flesh.

The track stopped and Ailsa beckoned Lisa over. She left reluctantly.

“There’s Nick. Over there, and he’s with Andy,” Ailsa warned her.

“Come on. We don’t need them to have a good time,” Lisa told her. Lisa tossed her hair and went back to the dancing; clearly glad of an opportunity to vex her ex.

Only Ailsa had danced enough. She needed Nick’s approval more than kicks with alcohol and strobe lights. He mattered more than dancing with strangers or the thrill of a fresh chase. Every part of her became tracking radar to Nick’s presence when he was in the same room.

Nick didn’t meet her gaze; he acted like he didn’t see her (had he?) He coolly walked to the bar then turned his back towards them. But even the back of his head looked great to Ailsa right now. Hope swelled inside her.
Please let me put things right again.
He was here and that was enough.

Ailsa watched Lisa dance with the man who’d approached her earlier. He was now doing John Travolta meets M.C. Hammer and it wasn’t pretty. She watched Lisa’s grinding dips get lower as they bumped behinds.

She caught her friend's eye and tried to warn off by shaking her head but Lisa simply pointed urgently over her shoulder. Then she made sexy eyes as if indicating she’d seen someone nice.

Ailsa got closer to find out what she was saying, “By the cigarette machine. Blue shirt, has an amazing body and he can’t keep his eyes off you." The dance floor was busy and Ailsa found herself tugged harder into the melee. Lisa dragged her by the hand and Ailsa started to dance along but half her attention was still on Nick.

Ailsa realised that the man by the cigarette machine Lisa had motioned to wasn’t a stranger and somebody she already knew.

“That’s Greg. Kirsty’s old ex.”

And yes he was handsome and well built. He ran his own Climbing Centre in Edinburgh, so he should get a regular great workout. Greg waved in greeting and Ailsa decided she’d had her fill of dancing. She went and gave him a friendly hug.

It had been way too long since she’d seen her sister’s ex. Greg had been as bereft by losing Kirsty as her family were. And while she now knew he dated again he’d never found anybody long term; Ailsa figured he’d hold a torch for her sister for a time to come. But he was a nice, decent guy who deserved to find someone special.

When Greg kissed her cheek, Ailsa saw Nick watch her with narrowed eyes. Then he frowned, talked to Andy through tight lips and drank his bottled beer. She’d hankered for Nick’s attention. Now she’d nailed it.

“It’s so great to see you,” said Greg. “I’ve meant to get in touch. I still have things of Kirsty’s at my flat. It’s been years so that probably seems bad but I’ve just moved and been clearing stuff. It’s only small things, maybe you’d like them?”

“That’s thoughtful; thanks for thinking of me. Want to talk over there? It’s hard to hear,” Ailsa offered. “I’m not in a dancing mood.”

“Sure.”

They found a quieter corner and she left Lisa dancing under the giant video screen.

“You really look great, Ailsa,” Greg told her. “Every time I see you on those sofa ads I smile.”

Ailsa mocked hiding from his comment. “Don’t. When the ads come on I run screaming.”

Just then a guy nearby, a little the worse for wear for merriment, turned to Ailsa and let out a whistle. “You’re the girl I dream about from Sofa TV,” he drawled a little too close. He pulled up his t-shirt to show off an expanse of his arm. “Sign me? I want your autograph.”

Ailsa floundered for a painless put down. “I’m busy with an old friend and I don’t have a pen. Sorry.”

“Busy?” said Mr Tipsy treating it as a come-on. “I’d love to get busy with you sometime.”

Ailsa wanted to say, “You’re getting in the way of my view of the man of my dreams. Go, stick your head in a bag.”

Instead she wafted a hand, “I’m going to the loo. I think you may have had enough for tonight.” It was a tried and tested fail proof put-down plan of the past. Only this time it wasn’t working. Tipsy Autograph Hunter headed her off by waiting near the ladies.

He caught her arm and kept his fingers there. “Why don’t we go somewhere nicer together? More private like my place?” Ailsa would rather opt for Forestry evening class. Her list’s item number four was happening with a dismal drunk who wouldn’t take defeat nicely.

Over his shoulder Ailsa could see Greg approaching to do the gallant thing. He stood beside Mr Letchy and quietly told him nicely to back up. Being a man-hunter really wasn’t what worth the hype. She should have stuck with the man who’d helped her start the list and avoided the baying monsters and werewolves.

“I don’t mean to insult you I’m sure you’re lovely,” she told him as the guy stepped back, swaying on the spot.

“Don’t see a ring, gorgeous, so I won’t give up without a fight.”

Greg was at the man’s elbow now and Ailsa felt panic at fearing a showdown.

A voice came from behind them and it was dark and deadly. “You heard the lady. She’s busy. And as flattering as your attention is, best call it a night.”

She saw Nick standing behind them with eyes like flashing steel and fast reflexes. It made Ailsa’s world spin. His face forewarned thunder in an urban dictionary definition of the phrase ‘don’t mess or you’ll regret it’.

First he directed his wrath at the drunk. “Leave her alone, you drunken fool. Get your hands off her too, if you know what’s good for you,” he warned Greg.

“Don’t be insulting. Greg is a friend.”

“A friend who’s being rather too familiar.”

“Who’s this?” Greg whispered softly to Ailsa. “Want me to get rid of this one too? You have more followers than a Facebook page offering free money.”

“It’s okay,” Ailsa whispered. “This one’s safe. He’s a bit protective but it’s nothing I mind about. In fact I should’ve been more appreciative of him before I came here.”

In seconds Nick reached out for her. He brought her against him and thrust his fingers in her hair. He looked into her eyes deeply and his lips made direct contact with hers. He kissed her, then deepened his tongue’s exploration. It was a movie kiss in glorious HD.

And despite the fact that they had an audience Ailsa enjoyed it hugely; she lost herself in her grabbed chance of connection. Those lips could kiss some; even when incensed and defending her honour.

“Kiss me all you want to,” Ailsa rasped when he tried to resurface. Like a Rolls Royce with only a tiny bit of encouragement he resumed his role with consummate ease and proficiency, ready to grant her request.