Page 4 of About Last Night
Rubbing a hand over his forehead, he sighed to himself. Hemustbe feeling jaded if he was resorting to playingguess my facein a place like this.
Apparently, she heard his sigh because she glanced round to look at him, pleasure flaring in her deep-set cornflower-blue eyes.
Perhaps she’d been eyeing him up earlier too?
The thought warmed him.
As she opened her mouth to draw breath, something must have caught in her throat because she paused for a moment, her eyes widening in panic, before letting out a forcible choking cough. Tearing her distressed gaze from his, she clamped her hand around her mouth in mortification.
She was prettier than he’d imagined – in an endearing girl-next-door way that made him want to lean over and rub her back to stop the coughing fit. To take care of her.
That was what he did best, after all – took care of people. Until they turned around and stabbed him in the back, that was.
He shook the negative thought off and grinned at her, attempting to project concern with his expression.
She gave him a watery-eyed smile back and flapped a hand in his direction as if asking for his forgiveness.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
She nodded, her gaze not quite meeting his. ‘Fine,’ she rasped out finally. ‘Something went the wrong way.’ She gesturedtowards her throat and his gaze followed where her finger indicated.
She had beautifully creamy skin, with a smattering of small dark moles just west of the hollow of her throat. A strange impulse to stroke his fingers across them gripped him. He’d probably make her choke in shock again if he did.
When his gaze returned to her face, he noticed two spots of colour had appeared on her high-set cheekbones.
Cute.
He could see now why she favoured such high heels too; even with them on, the top of her head only just reached past his shoulders.
She was studying him warily, as if trying to decide whether to spend more of her precious time talking to him. Clearly, she deemed him worthy because she said, ‘I’m Lu,’ and put out a small, delicately boned hand for him to shake.
He took it, his own looking obscenely monstrous in comparison. He was afraid for a second he might crush her if he wasn’t careful.
‘Short for Louise?’ he asked.
She smiled back and opened her mouth to speak but, before she could, a harried-looking barman came over and leaned in towards her, suddenly eager to take her order.
She asked for a glass of wine before turning to him and murmuring, ‘Buy you a drink… er…?’ She raised her eyebrows in a double question, asking for his name as well as his answer.
Whoa, thatvoice: husky, but melodic. It made him think all kinds of inappropriate thoughts as it lapped indecently through his head.
‘Tristan. Tristan Bamfield. And no, thanks. I’ve not finished the drink I have. I was just going to grab some nuts.’ He was reluctant to get into anything more than a passing conversation. Thethought of being dragged over and introduced to the gaggle of women she’d been sitting with made him feel faintly woozy.
He realised she was trying to suppress a giggle at his inadvertent double entendre as she added a bag of salted peanuts to her order. He slapped his hand against his forehead. ‘That didn't come out how I meant it to.’
They grinned at each other and there was a loaded pause while the barman dealt with the order. He watched Lu pay in silence, feeling a niggling discomfort about her buying him something. She gestured towards the nuts. ‘For coughing all over you.’
Tristan smiled. ‘Unnecessary, but thanks.’ Opening up the packet, he poured a few into his palm and tossed them into his mouth.
Lu took a swig of her wine, the large glass looking enormous in her dinky hand.
‘I see they do wine by the pint here,’ he said, nodding towards the glass. ‘That drink’s almost as big as you are.’
He caught a flash of what looked like irritation before she converted it to wry amusement. ‘Yeah, well, you get quality with me, not quantity,’ she said, a steely edge creeping into her voice.
He raised an amused eyebrow back. He’d annoyed her, he could tell, but she wasn’t making an excuse and moving away – she was taking him on.
The woman had grit by the truckload.
