The Morning After the Night Before: Love & Lust in the city that never sleeps! (15 page)

And he knew that because he tested it regularly. To see if it had ever been
him
, at all. To some people, that came off as arrogant. But really he just wanted to see what happened when he pushed people who weren't paid to keep smiling.

Or kissed someone who wasn't reaching for his wallet.

‘Harry?'

He snapped back to the present.

‘I was wondering why we are eating here rather than in the fancy restaurant in your building.'

‘The view may be fancy but the food is much better here. Would you rather we were there?'

‘No. I can get the view for free in your apartment.'

Ha. ‘That's not the comment of a spendthrift.'

‘Well, there's spending…' she smiled ‘…and there's wasting.'

‘And a revolving restaurant would be a waste?'

‘If it's not as good as this
kway teow
, yeah.'

‘I love that you are happy to tuck in in front of me.'

‘Well…my morning run just doubled but I'm not going to walk away from a good meal opportunity.'

‘That's not something I hear from most women.'

Two tiny lines crossed like her chopsticks between her brows.

Nice one, moron. Remind her how many women you've taken to dinner.

Or just taken.

She gathered more noodles into a pile. ‘Christine promised me I'd have curves when I grew up. So did the school nurse. And all my friends.'

‘Are we talking about breasts?'

‘Breasts. Hips, the curve of a nice bum. I endured being scrawny all my childhood, and a lovely shape as an adult was supposed to be the pay-off.'

‘I wouldn't call you scrawny.'

Not by model standards. And he'd know.

‘Are you about to say “gamine”?'

‘No. That sounds like something that should be on the menu. I was going to say “slender”.'

‘Because you're from the sixties?'

‘Lean?'

‘Like this beef?'

‘You're killing me. How about “willowy”?'

Her long neck elongated just slightly as she tipped her head and tested the word on her tongue. ‘I could live with that.'

‘Another thing some people would kill for. Your body.'

He sure would. Strong and resilient and healthy. And that thought just made him want to test how many ways it bent.

He cleared his throat.

‘That's because “people” don't know what it's like to have to have everything you wear altered to make up for being shaped like a ruler.'

‘I'm sure I managed to find hips to hang on to that night in your flat.'

Gorgeous heat flamed up her jaw. ‘Shh! Do you mind? We're not alone in this restaurant.'

Just talking dirty to Izzy was a turn-on. He didn't even need to touch her and his body would start to get involved. ‘More's the pity.'

‘Anyway. I wasn't fishing for compliments, thanks very much. So you can save your breath. And I can see you're finished but I'm not so you'll just have to sit tight.'

‘Go for it. I'll just watch.'

He steepled his fingers below his chin and rested it there, giving her his most infuriating smile.

‘That's just rude.'

He was getting to her? Good. Revenge was sweet. ‘It's polite. I don't want to rush you.'

She ignored him completely for the next mouthful of flat noodles and vegetable. But by the one after that she'd become aware of the intense focus he was placing on her slightly Thaigreased lips, the extra smile he gave her when she tried to lick it demurely off.

She pressed a napkin to her mouth instead, robbing him of his fun. ‘Okay, I think I'm done.' The napkin hit the table with a silent thud.

‘Finish your meal, Izzy.'

‘No. You're making it uncomfortable.'

‘Why? Because I'm watching you?'

‘It's the way you're watching.'

‘You don't like the attention?'

‘It's…predatory.'

‘You say that like it's a bad thing. Am I the only one who remembers what happened before dinner?'

She glanced around them, furious colour staining her skin. ‘No.'

‘Am I the only one anticipating what's going to happen after dinner?'

‘Nothing's going to happen while I have a belly full of Thai food. Bad planning on your part.'

‘Ah, but the night is long.'

‘Sadly, the walk back to your place is not.'

‘We can take the scenic route.'

‘Really? There's something more scenic than the shabby lane you brought me up to this restaurant?'

‘Want to find out?'

It took only minutes to settle up, walk back towards the Albert Embankment and turn towards Lambeth Bridge in the distance. Away from his apartment.

‘I walk the bridges a couple of times a week,' he told her. ‘When I can't sleep.'

She peered up at him sideways. ‘And how often can't you sleep?'

More than he cared to admit. ‘Often enough.'

‘Christine's the same. She can't sleep in the city.'

‘So she doesn't visit?' Educated guess.

Discomfort swamped Izzy's face, even under the odd glow of the embankment lights. ‘Too much white noise or…something.'

Back home if he was having trouble sleeping he'd pick up the phone and within twenty minutes he had nature's sedative knocking on his door. But women weren't as eager to get out of bed for a midnight booty call with middle management Harry Mitchell. Consequently, he spent a lot of time staring at the roof of his apartment. Or walking between Lambeth and Vauxhall bridges.

Maybe he'd always been a bad sleeper but was just too spent to notice?

Admiring the floodlit, art deco design of the nearest building ate up valuable minutes of conversation until they got clear of it. Then a noise up a side street startled them both and Izzy's healthy pace stuttered.

‘Are we safe walking here?'

‘Are you kidding? MI6 headquarters on one side of the Thames and MI5 on the other. Between the lighting and surveillance, these embankments are about as bright and secure as any in London. Plus you have me for protection.'

He probably should have been offended at her insta-laugh.

‘I guess you
could
always throw spreadsheets at them. And tie them up with your unassailable logic.'

God, her sarcasm was a turn-on. Every part of him was tingling. But he wasn't going to let her off that easy. ‘Or I could take them down with my martial arts training.'

She pulled him to a halt. ‘Really?'

And here they were again. The moment where he could tell her the truth. He'd already blurted more than he'd planned back at the restaurant, but she'd so bravely unloaded the skeleton from her closet it seemed impossible not to reciprocate a little.

Maybe that was the trick. Just little pieces. Meaningless unless you put the puzzle together. Which he'd never let her do.

‘Jiu-jitsu. Black belt.'

‘
Black
belt?'

‘Relax,' he said as they started moving again. ‘Lots of people have them these days. It's not a big deal.'

Except that it was the one physical outlet that his father deemed the benefits to outweigh the risks. Thank God or he would have had to resort to music or drama to fill those long empty hours each evening. And a Shakespearean soliloquy would have been no use whatsoever for impressing Izzy. And he liked nothing better than her brown eyes widening with surprise.

Unless it was them widening with lust.

‘But it's not a small deal,' she said. ‘That takes masses of discipline.'

‘You think I lack discipline?'

Yep. Clearly she did.

‘Can you show me some moves?'

He glanced around. ‘Someone's going to report me for threatening you.'

She hoisted herself up on the stone embankment barrier and crossed her long legs. ‘When I look this relaxed?'

‘Nuh-uh.' He lifted her down and she slid the length of his body. Nice bonus. ‘If I do this, you do it with me.'

He turned to face her, bowed briefly, and then locked eyes with her.

Her pretty brow lowered. ‘What am I doing?'

‘Come at me with menace.'

‘Then
I'll
get reported.'

‘Come on, nothing half-hearted. Like you mean it.'

Izzy glanced around and then back to him uncertainly. But as she opened her mouth to protest she shot forward with as much menace as a daisy and went to shoulder him off balance. But he'd been doing this a long time. The second
she made body contact he curled into it, twisted around behind her and locked one arm across her chest and the other around her waist, and his leg took hers out from under them.

They went down like a tangled, gentle mess, his body wearing most of the impact.

‘Is this your idea of foreplay?' she gritted from the green grass.

‘You wanted a demo.'

‘Were you so eager to get me on my back?'

‘Just saving time.' He grinned.

Steady eyes regarded him. ‘You're very confident that I'll be sleeping with you tonight.'

‘You're still with me, aren't you?'

‘I have eighty kilos of unexpected ego on top of me.'

‘I've been very open with my intentions. If you weren't on board with the idea of us having sex again you'd have found a polite way to extricate yourself before the noodles.'

‘Well, it's not happening here, so how about letting me up?'

He rolled to one side and pulled her with him to his feet. ‘Next time you'll know better than to question a man's martial arts prowess.'

‘I'm duly impressed. I guess I should be grateful you only bruised me.'

He was back by her side in a heartbeat. ‘I hurt you?'

Damn.
He'd lowered her as gently as he could.

His concern seemed to confuse her, more than anything. ‘No. Just my pride.'

‘Come on.'

It was the most natural thing on the planet to take Izzy's hand then, and then keep it even once he'd pulled her to her feet. He couldn't remember the last time he'd held someone's hand. It felt…

Normal.

Like two regular people walking and talking.

They stayed like that all the way to Lambeth Bridge, fingers entwined, arms brushing.

It was amazing what you could say while saying nothing of consequence. Every cell in his body wanted to answer her questions as Harrison, not Harry. Wanted to trust her with his truth. But he'd worked hard to create his London life, for as long as he'd be able to keep it, and he shouldn't be having thoughts of just throwing it away lightly.

Besides…he'd warned her he didn't do relationships and he meant it. Whatever this was would probably flare out in a week. So what was the point?

Inexplicable sadness washed through him like the waters below the bridge.

‘Want to walk to the wheel?'

She turned away and moved towards the opposite bank from the giant wheel lit up like a Christmas tree. ‘The London Eye gets quite enough attention without me adding to its ego.'

‘I bet you think that about me.'

‘And I stand by that.'

She didn't give him an inch. All the way back up Millbank. It was a kind of playful repartee he'd not had since hanging out with his sisters before the great separation into different schools. There was no gushing, no overt innuendo, the only touching was where their hands met and their arms brushed. She made him work, every step of the conversation.

He'd almost forgotten how.

It was sexy as hell. And his mouth was practically dry from all the talking.

One sure way to fix that.

‘Hold up.'

He pulled her to a halt in front of the art gallery and walked her, backwards, into the giant stone plinth on the left of the stairs. A flood light on the plinth top blazed a bright glow onto the white stone building, casting a convenient
shadow immediately below it. But not so much that Izzy wasn't bathed in an ethereal reflected glow.

‘Are you going to kiss me?' she breathed.

His eyes flicked over every part of her that wasn't pressed by his body to the stone. ‘Sure am.'

‘Anytime soon?'

It took no effort at all to fulfil her request. She even met him halfway before settling back against the stone and letting him press forward into her. Her mouth was like fire: scorching and dangerous. Still with a hint of Thai chilli. And more than a little bit addictive. It wasn't the mouth of a practised expert—and for that he was grateful—but Izzy was no novice, either. She was like Goldilocks. Just right. She kissed as she laughed—honest and without agenda.

But really, really well.

Hence his official Izzy addiction.

Her hands snaked up to link around his neck, crushing their chests together, her hard nipples celebrating their closeness. In case there was any doubt she was into him.

Someone walked past behind them and chuckled; he didn't care. All he knew were Izzy's lips. The feel of her body against his. The burn
of need coiling outwards from low in his gut. Not
want
, which he was plenty accustomed to.

Need.

This was a woman he could fall for. Hard.

If he was the kind of guy who could afford to fall hard.

Izzy stimulated him intellectually, aroused him physically and offered him what he'd never had much of in his life. Honesty. Integrity.

Her loyalty, if he let her.

And it didn't hurt that she thought he was pretty good in bed. She didn't waste time with the whole
too cool to enjoy it
thing. The faux disinterest that he'd thought was so alluring when he'd first started responding to the overtures of women when he was younger. At first, the competitive side of him got off trying to please the beautiful, older women; the lazy way they pulled themselves out of bed buck naked and went to refix their faces. It had felt very… worldly. And he'd gone out of his way to get under their skins. To mess their perfect makeup right up. To be the kind of lover they couldn't just walk away from without a wobble in their step, at least. He'd worked like a dog, becoming technically talented, trying to eke a hint of actual
emotion from women who'd made it their business to never give an inch.