Page 35 of Crocodile Tears

Alex ignored him, his attention captured by a pair of shapely brownlegs descending the stairs at the far end of the room. Then the crowd parted, and the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen appeared.

Her skin was a warm golden brown, and her curly brown hair was cut into an afro that looked like a magnificent cloud perched on top of her petite frame. She was wearing a tight red mini-dress that clung to her perfect curves, and a pair of knee-high black leather boots. She was gorgeous, and she knew it – heads turned and jaws dropped as she walked across the club to the bar, her pert bottom sashaying seductively.

“Who the hell is that?” Alex murmured, transfixed.

“Who? Oh! I sometimes forget you’re not a hundred per cent gay,” Bax said huffily as he followed Alex’s gaze.

“I’m about seventy per cent gay.” Alex grinned. “But the other thirty per cent is definitely into her.”

“You’ll have to fight all the straight boys here tonight for a chance at her,” Bax told him, glancing around. “Of course, none of them are remotely in her league, darling, so you’ll probably win. Going to try?”

Suddenly turning, the woman looked straight at Alex and gave a cheeky smile. He blinked, startled. She looked away, then glanced back over her shoulder, smiling at him again in what was clearly an invitation.

He handed his cigarette to Bax. “Why not?” he murmured. Elbowing a couple of potential love rivals out of his path, he went over to the bar. Up close, she was even more breathtaking, her eyes an unusual shade of golden brown and her skin flawlessly smooth.

“Hi.” He held out his hand. “I’m Alex.”

“Yeah, I know who you are, Alexander Lytton,” she retorted, and he liked the cool sparkle in her eyes. She didn’t look like someone who’d want to fix him. “I’m Solange Alajika.” After giving his hand a firm shake, she dropped it as if she couldn’t be bothered with him anymore.

“I’d buy you a drink, but I’ve bought my two beers for the night already, so I don’t have the funds,” he said apologetically.

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “I thought the Lyttons were stinking rich. Don’t you own all the ducks in the world?”

“Nah – not all of them.” He grinned. “Just the boring ones.”

“There are exciting ducks?”

“There could be, if anyone would build them.”

“Well, you’d know, I suppose.” She had a slight accent that he couldn’t trace.

“I love your hair.” He longed to touch it, but didn’t dare.

“Yeah, I get that a lot. People always want to know if it’s natural, and it is. Mum was Dutch, and Dad’s family came from somewhere in Africa, originally, years ago.”

“Are the eyes natural, too?” Alex asked.

“Are yours?” she threw back, and he laughed.

“You’re gorgeous.”

“Yeah, I am – and so are you, but you know that.” She glanced around the bar. “That must be why everyone’s looking at us, wondering if we’re gonna hook up.”

“Are we?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I dunno. I doubt either of us is used to trying very hard, looking like we do.”

He laughed again, intrigued.

At that moment, Bax appeared by his side. “Hey, Alex – look who I found,” he said, gesturing to a plump man with terrible acne, who he was dragging along by the elbow. Alex made a face, annoyed by the interruption.

“It’s Gerard Lucas-Nash – you were asking about him earlier,” Bax prompted.

“Oh, yeah, right.”

“I’m delighted to meet you, young sir,” Gerard said pompously, despite the fact he couldn’t have been more than a year older.

Alex gave Bax an “Is he for real?” look, and Bax coughed loudly to hide his fit of giggles.

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