Page 111 of Barging In
Shit.
“Sorry. You’re a little distracting,” Clem said, opting for the honest route.
Victoria’s low, sultry chuckle made Clem’s body tingle and legs weaken. As she stepped inside, Victoria moved toblock her path, slipping a hand around Clem’s side, fingers grazing the side of her breast.
Clem inhaled a sharp, quiet breath.
“You are a little distracting, too, you know,” she murmured, her thumb reaching around and rubbing Clem’s erect nipple.
Oh fuck. Her head reeled while her body threatened to melt into a puddle.
Victoria’s smile softened as she stepped closer. She smelled divine as usual.
Clem tried to inhale her scent, but her breath caught in her throat when Victoria’s lips found hers — soft, warm, achingly gentle.
In all the ways Clem had imagined tonight unfolding, having this happen before she’d even stepped fully inside hadn’t been one of them. She hadn’t dared to dream it. Ending the evening with a single extra kiss would have satisfied her. To have her nipple teased on the doorstep and to be kissed like that, with such hunger and tenderness, made her heart pound hard. It wasn’t only desire; it was promise.
Victoria drew back. “Come through to the kitchen,” she said casually, as if she hadn’t just kissed Clem’s face off and robbed her legs of strength. Clem slipped off her shoes, drawing deep breaths as she steadied herself against the wall.
“Is red, okay?” Victoria asked, lifting the lid on a pan of bubbling spaghetti to check it. “I just opened a bottle for the bolognese.”
“Yes, thanks,” Clem answered as she entered.
Victoria filled a glass with deep, plummy wine and slid it across the worktop to Clem as she settled onto her usual stool. She’d been to Victoria’s house often enough over thelast few months to feel at home — though tonight, she hoped it would be all personal, no business.
“I think we could call that a successful day,” Victoria said, taking a sip of wine.
Okay, maybe some business, then.
“Max texted to say he sold out, and I know the café did, too,” Clem said, lifting her glass to mirror Victoria’s. “Those actors you hired really added to the whole atmosphere. I listened to one telling a group of horrified children about her long working hours and how much pay she got.”
“Yes, they were excellent. Oh, that reminds me: The theatre company asked if they could hire the courtyard for some plays next year.”
“Seriously? That paid off then! How much do we charge for courtyard rental?”
Victoria’s lips pressed together as she gave Clem a blank look. “I’d better work that out. Museum tours are booked solid for the next two months, too.”
“Brilliant.”
“You are,” Victoria said, clinking her glass against Clem’s and making her blush. “None of this would have happened without you. We wouldn’t have the Otterford Cider Press or cake worth queueing for in the café.”
“Emma’s been doing a great job,” Clem said, ignoring the compliment. “The winter menu she’s pulling together looks delicious.”
“It is. I’m so glad I took a punt on her and that Christine resigned. I was furious with her at the time for leaving me in the lurch, but I can’t imagine how today would’ve gone with her running the café.”
“Just think: If Christine hadn’t resigned, you wouldn’t have needed me. We might never have spoken again.”
Victoria grinned as she stirred a steaming saucepan ofbolognese. “I think our paths would’ve crossed eventually.”
“True. You never could resist my lemon drizzle. You’d have been back, queuing at my hatch.”
“Says she who was always gazing out her window in my direction.”
“My sink looks straight out onto your office window. I couldn’t help it,” Clem protested playfully. “And anyway, who could resist staring at a beautiful woman instead of a sink full of dirty mixing bowls?”
“Oh, well, I see. When you put it like that, I supposeyou’re welcome.” Victoria winked, then drained the spaghetti. “Let’s eat.”
“I’m ravenous. It’s been a long day,” Clem said, taking their glasses over to the table.
