Page 40 of About Last Night
She’d never been good at socialising in large parties. The mere thought of having to make small talk with total strangers without the anonymity of her microphone and a closed studio made her jittery, but she knew she had to suck it up and put on a good show if they were going to persuade more companies to invest in the station.
The success of Flash had to be her main priority here.
Tristan finally caught up with her after her show, the day of the networking event.
‘Are you still on for tonight?’ he asked, blocking her way out of the studio so she was forced to stop and talk to him.
It was the first time she’d been this close to him since the night in his apartment and her body trembled with tension as she attempted to stay cool and collected in the face of his intense charisma.
‘Yes, I’m all keyed up and ready to go.’ She gave him the most assertive smile she could manage.
The sexual hunger in his returning grin made heat rush straight between her thighs.
His reaction only reinforced her assertion that it was fabricated ‘self-assured Lula’ that he was attracted to though.
‘Great. Well, the thing starts at eight, so I’ll pick you up in a cab at seven thirty,’ he said moving closer.
She put up a hand, her heart thumping hard. ‘No, that’s okay. I’ll just meet you there.’
His brow creased in confusion. ‘It’s no trouble, Lula.’
‘I know, but I’d rather make my own way there, thanks.’ She stood firm, knowing if she had to spend any time with him in the close confines of a car, she was bound to start the evening a flustered mess. There’d be plenty of time for her to degenerate into atangle of nerves once they were there.
After scanning her face, he finally nodded. ‘Okay, if that’s what you’d prefer.’
‘I would prefer that, yes.’
She almost bit the words back as she registered his offended expression, but before she could open her mouth to try and explain, he turned around and strode away.
As promised, Tristan waited for Lula outside the revolving doors to the imposing Dryden International Hotel in Knightsbridge.
All the breath left his lungs as he watched her walk up the steps to where he stood. She looked utterly beautiful in a figure-hugging, sleeveless gold dress that clung to her amazing curves and stopped just above her knees displaying a pair of gold six-inch-heel shoes. She could have been the goddess of opulence with her long hair piled loosely on top of her head and her bright eyes sparkling with metallic-coloured make-up.
No one was going to treat her as if she was invisible tonight.
His gut twisted as he remembered how cold she’d been towards him earlier that afternoon, no, strike that, since she’d walked out of his apartment the previous Friday night.
She’d very obviously been avoiding him since then and he didn’t like it one bit. This need to push and push for a reaction had become something of an obsession for him and the constant knock-backs were beginning to get to him.
He really respected her assertiveness though. She was the bravest, most electrifying woman he’d ever met and he wanted her. More than he’d wanted anyone or anything in his life before. But most of all, he wanted her to admit she wanted him back.
‘Hey,’ he said as she reached the top of the steps. ‘You look beautiful.’
Her gaze didn’t quite meet his and he wondered whether she consideredbeautifulto be an inappropriate word to use. Admittedly, it wasn’t usually utilised in the boss/employee vocabulary but it fitted the context perfectly.
‘Thanks,’ she murmured in that sexually evocative voice of hers and he wondered how he was going to get through the evening when all he wanted to do was drag her off to bed and do wicked things to her.
They walked through the glossy marble lobby to the cocktail bar, which was already thronging with people. It was an impressive place. The right-hand wall was made up of glass cabinets displaying a dazzling array of cocktail glasses and an impressive range of wine bottles. The rest of the place was done out in brown leather, glass and chrome with a long catwalk-shaped bar in the centre of the room.
When he glanced at her, Tristan was surprised to see Lula hanging back with a fixed smile on her face.
Okay, time for a drink.
After grabbing two glasses of red wine from a passing waiter he handed one to Lula. ‘Shall we mingle?’ he said.
She nodded, then held up one finger and took a long sip of her wine, before flashing him a steady smile. ‘Let’s do it.’
Resisting the urge to put a guiding hand at the base of her back, he walked around the room with her, dropping in and out of conversations, which Lula let him lead, adding in her own words of wisdom as necessary.
