Page 4 of The First Deal

“You’re getting quite picky,” Juno teased. “I expect you’ll start adding other things to your list, like must be over six foot tall, can’t own blue bed sheets, likes cats.”

“Those are all very good, add them too,” I said with a wink, only half joking, they weren’t deal breakers, but shit, I had a real vendetta against blue bedding.

Juno laughed, then chased me out of the bar with a damp tea towel, swatting at my ass until I was out in the blazing sun, sweating my ass off instantly as I made my way home to my studio flat at the top of a hill. The walk was killer on my legs, but the view was worth it.

Once I was home and freshly showered, I sat in my towel on my windowsill with the window wide open, closed my eyes, and let the warmth of the summer sun dry my body as the fresh air wrapped around me. I listened to seagulls squawk as they flew over the sea, letting the sounds of nature calm me for a while until I realised that I had wasted too much time and still needed to dry my hair and put on my face.

I put on loud rock music as I got myself ready and shoved my feet into a pair of killer heels just as the car pulled up outside. It was early, but the journey up to London—at least I presumed that was where I was going—would take quite some time.

Meaning that it would also take quite some time to get home later tonight, or tomorrow, depending on how dinner went. I was hopeful for a night away in London, but we’d see. Perhaps I’d find Shane painfully boring and decide to leave, perhaps he’d be the most charming, interesting man I had ever met, and I’d want to stay forever.

With a clean pair of knickers and my toothbrush shoved to the bottom of my bag, I climbed into the car and set off.

“Where are we going?” I asked, popping on my location on my phone and sharing it with Juno, knowing that although the man seemed trustworthy, you could never be too sure. For all I knew he was a businessman by day, sexy murderer by night, and he was having me dropped to some shipping container where he planned on torturing me.

The driver glanced at me in the mirror. “Mr Hudson didn’t tell you?”

I shuddered, maybe this had been a bad idea. I shook my head, my thumb finding its way towards my mouth, the skin around my nail already torn. It was always torn. I had a bad habit, biting that skin, but it was a habit I had yet to break.

“Oh,” the driver said with a laugh. It was a nice laugh, kind, not sinister. “Mr Hudson has picked a lovely little Italian place for dinner. Your reservation is for 8 pm.” He glanced in the mirror again. “I’ll be outside ready to take you home whenever you’re ready. Mr Hudson is a good man, a gentleman. You’re quite safe.”

Sighing in relief, my jaw relaxed and my thumb dropped away, back into my lap. With a laugh, I said, “So I’m not about to become Mr Hudson’s next victim.”

The driver laughed loudly. “Oh, little miss, the only thing you’ll become a victim of is his charm.”

It was just the reassurance that I needed, and I got comfortable for the rest of the journey. We chatted and listened to the radio as we drove, I learned that my driver’s name was Boris, but I could call him Bo. He was in his mid-forties, had a wife and three kids, and had worked for Shane for the last six years. Between him and one other driver, he exclusively worked for Shane, not Limelight, and according to Bo, Shane was the best boss he’d ever had.

“He’s generous, kind, funny…” Bo went on, listing all of the wonderful things about the man I was about to meet for dinner. He was acting like the world’s best wingman, but I didn’t need him to, I had agreed to go for dinner, and if Shane really was as great as Bo said, it would be clear for me to see as the evening played out.

“We’ll see,” I said with a wiggle of my brows. “He must have some bad qualities though, tell me those.” Another thing I would likely find out in my own time, but curiosity always got the best of me.

Bo slowed then came to a stop at a red light and turned in his seat, glancing over his shoulder at me. “He has one, are you sure you want to know?”

I nodded, of course I did.

Bo hesitated, seeming momentarily unsure about sharing my date’s downfall. “Mr Hudson has never married.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t seeing how that was a bad thing.

“Or had a serious girlfriend,” Bo said quietly, almost too quiet to hear.

Ah. There it was. The hint that the billionaire was a playboy. I snorted then composed myself, smiling at the driver. “Neither have I.”

Bo’s brows pinched and then he was turning back to the road, ready to continue the final part of our journey. “You’re not bothered by that?”

“It’s a date, Bo. I’m not head over heels in love with the man.”

“Yet,” he said under his breath, and that single word should have scared me. But it didn’t. If anything, it made me want to laugh. I had never been in love, always quite content with lust instead. Sure, a nice man for the rest of my life sounded lovely, but if the man didn’t want it, I wouldn’t push. If I was going to settle down with one person, I wanted that person to want me in the same way I wanted them. Entirely.

We pulled up outside a cute little Italian place a few moments later, and Bo got out of the car to open my door. He held his hand out for me, a gesture that I was not at all used to, but gladly accepted. My legs were half asleep by the time we arrived, and it took me a few seconds to gain my balance and feel ready to walk into the restaurant, but as I took my first step towards the door, situated beneath a small canopy, he came into view.

His hand replaced Bo’s as I stifled a small gasp and smiled up at the gorgeous man before me. Shane Hudson, dressed in his fancy suit with its perfectly pressed pink pocket square and matching tie, leaned down and kissed my cheek.

He smelled incredible, sweet but not sickly, like a warm summer’s day. His soft lips hovered at the side of my face for a moment before he straightened up, hummed, and then graced me with the filthiest smile I had ever seen.

“You look good enough to eat,” he complimented me in a tone that almost made my knees buckle, low and growly.

And then his smile turned from seductive into an excited grin as he slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow, and with a voice more like buttery popcorn, delicious, yet playful, he said, “I’ve been looking forward to this all afternoon, I hope you’re hungry.”

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