Melting Ms Frost (16 page)

They joined a group of people riding the express elevator up to the roof terrace and stepped out into a floating formal winter garden. Over the wonderland of clipped evergreen topiary, sculpted steel water features and dozens more of the delicate bauble ‘Christmas trees’, a vast retractable glass roof was fully extended, its state-of-the-art frameless design allowing diners the opportunity to bask in all the beauty of the cloudless day while enjoying protection from the attendant chill.

Annabel eyed the long line of people queuing for tables. ‘We’ll never get in,’ she said, not bothering to hide her disappointment.

‘Ah, Annabel, when will you learn to trust me?’ he asked, leading her straight to the head of the milling crowds. He uttered a quiet word to the host, who in turn signalled a waiter to show them to one of the better tables set close to the building’s edge, offering uninterrupted views of the London skyline. But again, Aidan found he only had eyes for Annabel as she removed her coat to reveal a round-necked dress of softest forest-green cashmere that seemed to cling to every curve.

Taking her seat and the proffered menu, Annabel waited only until the waiter turned away. ‘How did you manage that?’ she demanded with a snap of her old self.

‘Friends in the right places.’ He grinned. In the sunlight her hair ignited with highlights of flame and spun gold, hinting at the fiery natural colouring that not even a layer of dye could subdue. He couldn’t help wondering how long her armour had been in place, what had prompted her to want to hide her true beauty from the world. He’d find out one day.

By the time the waiter came back to take their order, Annabel had apparently recovered enough to resume her act. Instead of ordering for herself, she sent Aidan the same faux coy smile and eyelash bat combo she’d tried out last night and breathily asked him to choose for her. Oh, yes. Miss Frost definitely had a game afoot.

Thinking back to the dessert episode during the tasting at Cluny’s, he took full advantage of the situation, choosing her the sweetest thing he could find. When their food arrived, he was far from disappointed by the sensuous, and entirely genuine, display he was treated to as Annabel was helplessly transported to syrupy waffle heaven.

Intrigued to see how far she was willing to take things, he set about testing the boundaries, finding that, no matter what topic of conversation he brought up, she agreed with him. Even when he offered the most unfavourable views he could think of, she held character and did no more than simper. She deferred to him in every choice to be made – from whether she wanted more coffee to whether they required the nearby terrace heater turned up for extra warmth.

While he had to admit that it was all a hugely enjoyable show, Annabel really did make a terrible actress. Nearly as bad as she was a liar. He waited until their plates had been cleared to call her on it.

‘You’ve a very interesting mood about you this morning, Ms Frost. And as diverting as I find it, why don’t you tell me what it is that you’re hoping to achieve?’

‘Achieve? I don’t know what you mean.’ She gave an exaggerated beat of her lashes. ‘I’m simply making an effort to be friendlier. I thought that’s what you wanted?’

He snorted with incredulity. ‘Despite the very entertaining performance, I’m not sold.’

She blinked at him with huge eyes. ‘You don’t believe me?’

‘I’m not entirely sure what it is I’m supposed to be believing.’

‘Simply that I’ve taken on board the things you’ve said about me, and that, on reflection, I’ve realised you’re right – I need to be more –,’ she paused, pursing her lips as she obviously cast around for the right word ‘– obliging.’

He felt one side of his mouth lift up. ‘No. I don’t believe that for a minute.’

She feigned a hurt look. ‘That’s a shame. So I suppose you also wouldn’t believe that I’ve come dressed especially for you?’

His gut tightened at the cheeky undertone her voice had taken on. ‘How so?’

She leant forward and lowered her voice. ‘With no knickers.’ Immediately her cheeks flamed bright red, all the evidence he needed to know she was telling the truth.

Sweet fucking saints save him.

He was beyond impressed when he managed to get his next sentence out in a steady sounding voice. ‘If that’s the case – and I sincerely hope it is – then you’re playing with fire, Ms Frost. You realise that, don’t you?’

She gave him a mischievous smile, her eyes skipping over his face. ‘Don’t worry, I think I’m big enough to take the heat.’

Oh, she was having the time of her life – thinking she was beyond safe, flirting and teasing him here in the middle of a crowd. She really didn’t know him very well at all yet, did she?

Time to set her straight.

‘Are you? Maybe we’ll have to put that theory to the test.’ He leaned across the table and lowered his voice. ‘Open your legs. Show me.’

She gasped, looking around at the glamorous, wintry surrounds. ‘Here?’

‘Here,’ he confirmed. ‘Now.’

Her green eyes darted as though looking for an excuse to pluck out of the air. ‘I’m not an exhibitionist, Mr Flynn. I dressed just for you, not for everyone else.’ The words were still full of bravado but the nervous swallow that followed them rather ruined the effect.

He sat back and gave a shrug. ‘Ah, not to worry, then,’ he said, watching the breath she’d been holding rush out of her lungs. Her relief would be short-lived. ‘I can have that fixed in a matter of minutes,’ he said, calling her bluff. ‘Have us tucked away in a nice private room. Shall I arrange that, Annabel, so we can see if you’re still so sure of yourself, so ready to please me, then?’

The tension was back, tenfold. His gaze latched onto the fluttering pulse point at the base of her throat. Very soon, he’d be in a position to press his mouth over it, feel the rapid beat of her excitement against his tongue, let it set the pace of his own heartbeat.

‘Sounds extravagant.’ He watched her throat move with the words. ‘Are you sure it would be worth the cost?’

His gaze jumped back up to hers. ‘Without a doubt.’

He caught the flicker of uncertainty in those green depths, noted that she couldn’t quite keep from fidgeting, and was impressed that she made herself hold his gaze.

‘All right,’ she said, not nearly so certain of herself now but obviously deciding to risk a double bluff. Little did she know that as a seasoned player, he was already one step ahead of her.

‘Then finish up your coffee.’ Without ever taking his focus off her face, he produced the keycard to the hotel room he’d been keeping in his pocket and slid it into the middle of the table. ‘Because I can’t wait to get you all alone.’

Annabel stared with stunned horror at the keycard sitting on the table between them, hardly able to hear what Aidan was saying over the sudden roaring of her blood in her ears. The heated excitement that had been building as a result of their teasing had morphed into outright panic. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

‘You got a room? Here?’ she asked dumbly. How? He was a barman. How could he have managed to secure, let alone afford the cost of a room in one of the most exclusive, expensive hotels in London? ‘Who
are
you?’

He grinned across the table at her then signalled their waiter for the bill. ‘I’m the man pulling every string at his disposal in the hopes of impressing you. Is it working?’

Was it working? Well, she wasn’t running for the exit, which left her with an awful suspicion that
something
was. Shame it wasn’t her brain. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she’d given in to a moment of madness and come without her underwear – all for the sake of the kick she’d get out of parading that secret right under Aidan Flynn’s oblivious nose – she must have totally lost her mind to then go and admit it to him. What had she expected would come from waving herself in his face like a giant red rag to a bull?

She was saved from having to inspect the answer to that question too closely when Aidan said, ‘We’re done here,’ after she’d failed to respond. Signing the bill to the room, he pushed to his feet and stood beside the table waiting for her to make her next move.

Shit, what should she do? What
could
she do? Yet again she found herself backed into a corner, where her choices left a lot to be desired. She could say no –
should
say it – because this was too much. It was supposed to be a game, that was all, one that had gone too far, too fast. But it wasn’t as simple as saying no and walking away. Performing that sort of U-turn now would be as good as admitting that the whole thing had been a farce. And that would surely only serve to make her look immature and foolish.

Right. Because she’d been the very picture of maturity and wisdom so far.

‘Annabel?’

Aidan’s voice broke through her mental wranglings. She looked up at the resolute set of his handsome face, into those beautiful eyes that questioned with a steely glint and felt the bottom drop out of her stomach as she realised that, short of a sudden convenient natural disaster, there was no way out of this. Pride wouldn’t let her back down. Trying to ignore the traitorous voice in her head that whispered maybe she didn’t want to back down, she reached for the keycard that Aidan had left sitting on the table like a gauntlet, and pushed to her feet. When she met the look of heated admiration he gave her, the whispers in her head turned to shouts for help. Come on! Where was an earthquake or a big bloody bolt of lightning when she needed one?

Carrying her coat over one arm, she followed Aidan back to the elevator lobby where he passed the clutch of people waiting to take the express ride back to the ground floor and continued to the lifts which serviced all the hotel’s floors. She watched him push the button, jumping at the almost instantaneous pinging sound that preceded the swish of the metal doors opening in front of her.

In the mirrored rear wall of the empty car, she saw the reflection of Aidan Flynn move up behind her. ‘First and only chance to back out, Ms Frost,’ he whispered, his stare meeting hers over her shoulder. ‘Be sure before you step inside, because if you want to play games with me, you’d better know that I play to win. And I play dirty.’

Yeah, she thought shakily. She’d already figured that out. She took a breath to try and clear her mind. Was she sure? Hell no. She’d never been so unsure of anything in her life. The only thing she could think was that maybe the best way to regain order and control was to face up to the test that Aidan Flynn represented. Didn’t psychologists promote the theory of embracing fears in order to conquer them?

Almost as though her feet had a mind of their own, they led her into the elevator. Aidan followed, pausing to hit the button for the second floor before homing in on her. Backing up, she found herself bumping against the wall, unable to take her gaze off him as he closed in on her space.

His greater height and the unblinking intensity of his scrutiny were overwhelming. Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t speak. It didn’t help that she was as aroused as she could remember being in … well, in pretty much forever. Her last
encounter
must have been over a year ago, and so casual and perfunctory an affair as to be rendered utterly forgettable.

She forgot it even more when the doors started sliding closed, making her start.

‘You look a little nervous, Annabel,’ Aidan observed with a quirk of a brow, stepping even closer so that Annabel found herself pressing further back against the side of the elevator. ‘Are you?’

She couldn’t answer, just produced some sort of strangled squeak that drew a chuckle from the tall, dark wall of danger looming over her.

‘You should be, if you’re really wearing nothing under the skirt of that dress.’ He lowered his head towards the side of hers so that he could murmur directly into her ear. ‘If it’s true, imagine the things I could do to you right here, right now?’ He stopped and drew in a deep breath which hummed in his throat. ‘Delicious, deviant things that in an instant would have you squirming against my mouth – begging for my fingers.’

She tried to gasp but found that all the air seemed to have been sucked out of the elevator.

‘I’d only use two at first, to test how tight you are,’ that soft voice went on, pouring more scandalous words into her ear, his breath making the fine hairs around her hairline tickle against her cheek. ‘I’d make you ready so I could ease them in deep to explore every inch, to hunt out all your weak spots.’ If he was trying to shock her, he was succeeding. It was too much, she needed to distance herself, gain some control of the situation. Already pressed as tight as she’d go against the wall, she tried to edge sideways, but froze when Aidan brought his arms up to the wall on either side of her head, trapping her. ‘Then, once I’d got to know you better than you know yourself, when I felt you finally start to melt around me, I’d stretch you with a third and finger-fuck you, Annabel. Slow and easy to start, and then fast and hard.’

He played dirty, he’d said? Oh, no. This wasn’t dirty, it was downright filthy. If she couldn’t work out how to get some oxygen into her lungs soon, she was going to pass out. Maybe that would be her saving grace?

‘But I don’t think I’d let you come. Not for a long time. Instead, I’d use all that newfound knowledge to drive you to the edge and keep you there until you cried and pleaded and struggled for release.’ Vaguely Annabel noticed that their descent had slowed but Aidan didn’t move, ignoring the doors as they opened behind him. ‘And when you thought you couldn’t take any more, thought that surely I must grant you mercy, I’d take you somewhere private, tie you down tight and take my own pleasure in every way imaginable. Until I was the only thing you could taste and smell and feel. I’d claim ownership of every part of you, Annabel, and you’d surrender willingly and love every minute of it.’

She closed her eyes needing to take a moment, but opened them again as she sensed him move. He caught the button to hold the doors open just as they’d begun to close, turned back to her. ‘Shall we?’

As though in a dream, she followed him down the hall, no longer able to remember whether she should be working to a plan of escape beyond the rather flimsy one of relying on the intervention of major disasters or acts of God. Before long she found herself entering the room, her heart beating so furiously she was surprised Aidan couldn’t hear the thud. She couldn’t even spare a thought to take in her surroundings as the door closed, all her attention on keeping an eye on Aidan, waiting for him to pounce.