Meet Me in London

by Georgia Toffolo

  Frowning, she opened her mouth as if to say something more, thought the better of it and stepped away, making him drag his eyes from the photo. But he didn’t want to. These women looked so vibrant and carefree and yet he could see the effect the accident had had on her.

  “You look shaken up. It must have been hard for you, Victoria. If ever you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

  Her back straightened. “It was a long time ago. Almost ten years, as I said.”

  “And yet you’re wearing it still.”

  She shook her head, slowly let her arms fall from her chest. “Only when I remember. But we have lots of brilliant memories too. We had a holiday in Ibiza a couple of months before that ball and we had such a lot of laughs. We had to smuggle Zoe out of her house, and she lied to her parents about where she was. For days. They’d always struggled to allow her to be herself and just wanted to wrap her in cotton wool and never let her leave the Cove. She wanted to fly. My mum encouraged my dreams, but Zoe’s parents, like yours, didn’t want her to have any.”

  “That must have been tough on Zoe. Growing up is hard enough without having your wings clipped.”

  She smiled, understanding the subtext. “You weren’t allowed that. You had your life mapped out.”

  He noticed she was relieved to be changing the subject and shining the spotlight on him, but he would return to it another time. There was something about the car accident and those friends of hers that had affected her greatly. For now, he’d follow her conversational lead.

  “Oh, I grew up pretty quickly at boarding school. I had a great time doing everything I was expected to do, I didn’t know anything different. I just wasn’t encouraged to dream of things like drawing or surfing. It didn’t fit the box they wanted to put me in.”

  But he was starting to dream now...dream of doing something different, something more. Stretching himself further than spreadsheets and rebuilds. What, he wasn’t quite sure yet, but an idea around helping kids who hadn’t been as lucky as he had was forming. No details as he hadn’t yet found the right fit, but it would definitely be about giving back, paying forward. Which made taking on the family business full-time difficult. But he would do it. Do both. Victoria had made him start to think what could be possible.

  She smiled, her eyes softening and lighting up. “I can’t help with the surfing, but I can teach you to draw if you like?”

  Her sketches were tacked to the walls, he’d seen her doodles. There was no way he was going to compete with that. “Not a chance. Creativity is lost on me. But I can definitely make an exquisite spreadsheet.”

  That made her laugh. “Clearly we see the world very differently. My definition of beauty is nothing to do with numbers.”

  Sure. But his definition of beauty was standing right here. She was so close her perfume filled the space, her laughter was a gentle song that made his heart lift. Her skin so clear and smooth he wanted to touch it. Touch her. He reached his fingers to her cheek. “Victoria, I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

  He could feel her trembling under his fingertips. “Lucky you.”

  “I mean it. You’re amazing.” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, and she blinked up at him. The connection between them tightened.

  She smiled, warily, her heated gaze clashing with his. “We can’t do this. Shouldn’t...” Yet she stepped closer.

  And he couldn’t think of a single reason why they couldn’t have one kiss. “We can.”

  Her lips parted as he thumbed her bottom lip, a whimper in her throat. She wanted to do this as much as he did, he could see it written over her face, but she was fighting it. “It’s just business, Oliver. Let’s not forget that.”

  “But—” He wanted to say it was becoming more than business but the shrill ringtone of his phone blasted into the breathy silence. She moved back to look up and meet his eyes. Hers were misted with intense desire that made his gut tighten.

  She exhaled on a ragged breath. “You should get that.”

  “No.”

  “You really should. What if it’s important?”

  He cursed under his breath, hating that this moment was broken. “It’ll be Andrew.”

  “He needs you?”

  “I am so over his problems. I need this. I want to kiss you and I know you want to kiss me.”

  “I...” Her hand went to his chest, she gripped his jacket in a tight fist, pressing herself against him as if she wanted nothing more than to touch him, but he could see her consciously erasing the desire second by second.

  He’d spooked her. Spooked himself.

  His phone beeped again.

  “Get it. Please, Oliver.” She turned away, mashing her hands together as if doing something else with them would stop her from grasping his clothes. Tight little fists locked in each other. He’d lost her already, the moment was definitely gone.

  Huffing out a frustrated breath he picked up, read the message and his stomach fell. He closed his eyes wishing that when he opened them again the message would not be there. “Oh. Damn.”

  She wheeled round to face him, her eyes locked on his, fading desire mixed with concern. “What is it? What’s the matter? Is it your dad?”

  “Kind of. Nothing bad. My parents are here.”

  “What do you mean here?” She stalked over to the window. “They’re not downstairs in the bar, are they?”

  “In London. They’ve just landed at the Edmiston Heliport in Battersea and they want to meet you.”

  “So soon? I thought we had weeks to prepare.”

  “Tonight. Now.” At her fallen face he explained, “I casually mentioned we had a date tonight, just to get her out of my hair. I didn’t know they were going to do this. Apparently, Dad’s been called up to see his specialist tomorrow. They’re bringing his treatment forward.”

  “Can’t we pretend I’m working?”

  “Not if I’ve already told them we’re on a date.”

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head sharply. “Oh, God. I can’t lie. I just can’t. It’s not in my nature, I can’t—why did I let you talk me into this?”

  “You’ll be fine.” He put his hands on her shoulders to stop her from pacing, turned her to face him. She looked flushed with panic and he regretted the whole damned thing and what it was doing to her, but they’d started along this path and he couldn’t stop now. He needed to convince his dad that his life was settled. “Fiancée.”

  She pulled away and started fussing over her hair, moving so quickly he couldn’t keep up. “Can we not announce the engagement until I’m ready? I need to know more about you before I can commit to that.”

  “It’s too late. I may have hinted we’re already down that track.” Declared rather than hinted. “But we’ve got this.”

  She frowned but took a deep breath as she ran her palms down her jumper. “Right. OK. We can do this. Lipstick? Hair? Is it OK? Do I look up to scratch?”

  “I told you before. Beautiful. You are, what is it...? Well, peng.” And also like a frightened bird ready to fly away from danger. He needed her with him and to do that he had to calm her, make her feel in control. Without thinking he pressed his lips to her forehead. She stopped moving. Froze completely.

  “Oliver, we’ve got ourselves into very deep water.”

  He slipped his hand into hers. “Then let’s hold each other up.”

  9

  HE WAS KISSING her head and holding her hand and it was so lovely she closed her eyes and let herself sink into the feeling of being cared for and wanted. Of being beautiful in his eyes. She couldn’t remember a time when anyone had treated her with such unguarded affection. Not even Peter. Their relationship, now she looked back, developed from fun and casual to her trying hard to please him and him making more demands. There hadn’t been a mutual respect there, not like this. This sharing of dreams and ideas.
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  She let herself believe, just for a moment, that this was real. That she was Oliver’s real girlfriend. A whole one who didn’t have scars and damage and baggage and who could promise him the future he’d want.

  He squeezed her hand and she felt the message resonate through her: they could do this. They could fool everyone into thinking they were a couple. But she had a bad feeling she wouldn’t need to do much in the way of playacting, because the affection she was starting to feel for him was real.

  Not just that...he was a good guy, sure, but he was also a next-level sexy one. As she felt his palm in hers, his mouth on her forehead, skin against skin, desire rushed through her. Despite the trajectory they were on—meeting his parents and playacting, she wanted to kiss him. Now. Wanted to explore his body, wanted to know how he tasted. Wanted to know what it would take to snap this thinly veiled self-control. The way her body ached for his touch, she didn’t think it would take an awful lot.

  When she pulled away and saw his smiling face she wondered if he was thinking that too. And if he was, she had to end it, right now, because neither of them could have any dreams of what-ifs and possibilities here. She wasn’t a good bet and definitely not Russell wife material and she couldn’t let him think she was.

  She needed to either finish it or make sure they never over-stepped the line stopping them from turning from friends into something more. “Oliver—”

  “We’ve got to get going, we can talk more in the car.” He gave her a wink and tugged at her hand and, as she walked past the mannequins dressed in her students’ designs, she remembered the reasons she’d agreed to this. She could wait a little longer before she said something. She just had to make sure she didn’t fall into the trap of actually believing the lies.

  She walked with him into the frosty night, round to the car park under the department store and climbed into a very sexy gunmetal gray car, relieved to see it didn’t have anything remotely family about it. Just two seats. Leather. Expensive. She laughed. “Might have known you’d have a convertible.”

  “It’s also a hybrid so I’m doing my bit for the environment.” His chest puffed out with pride. He didn’t have any airs or graces, this car was just as much a treat for him as anyone, despite the billions in the bank. “I just need something small to buzz around the city.”

  “For when the helicopter is in for servicing?” She laughed, having never known anyone who took a helicopter as transport. Even Blake Hawkesbury, the richest man in Hawke’s Cove, just drove a car. This was a wealth she couldn’t even imagine and just the thought of it made her anxious. How would his parents react to her? Just a small-town girl from Devon? Would they take one look at her and be utterly disappointed?

  But Oliver laughed too, gunned the engine and eased the car onto the dark Chelsea street. “We have two.”

  She gaped at him. “Two helicopters? How eco-friendly are helicopters?”

  “We pay a lot of money in carbon offsets, trust me. It’s just easier for my parents to get around, especially now Dad’s sick. Having taken a few steps back from the business already they’re now permanently based in Norfolk, so they don’t need to come up to London very often, although they do keep an apartment in Knightsbridge for when they do. Driving is a nightmare for them both—Mum gets migraines and Dad can’t concentrate for long, so they fly in and out. It’s just logistics.”

  It was out of her league. She ran her hand over the soft leather and wondered what he’d thought of her cozy bohemian studio above the wine bar. Her nerves jangled all over again. Of all the women he could have chosen, why had he asked her to do this? “Where are we meeting them?”

  “A little Italian brasserie around the corner from my house.” He grinned. “The house you’re thinking of moving into.”

  The panic that had abated slightly took over again. “I am?”

  “But not until after the opening, because we’re both so busy.”

  “OK, that’s good. At least they won’t expect me to be there all the time. What’s it like?”

  “Mews. Three bedrooms. I have to admit it’s a bit of a man cave, but you’re a designer so you can see past that, right? It has potential for a couple. Or we could be planning to buy a different place together? Yes. That should be our plan. Where would you like to live?”

  “I like where I am. I love my flat and it’s perfect for me. I’ve never thought about anywhere else, to be honest.”

  “Not sure we can both fit in your spare bedroom.” He laughed, but images of them entwined together in her bed sprang into her head. The sun shining through the wooden blind slats, their bodies glistening with a post-sex sheen. His hair even more messy than now.

  How would he look naked? How would he feel inside her? That last sudden thought shocked her. Shook her. Excited her.

  She swallowed, pushing the picture from her brain and trying to focus on his words. “Notting Hill is nice. Or Primrose Hill. Anywhere with a hill really. Or Highgate, that’s where a lot of the celebs live.”

  Victoria’s heart thudded as panic threatened to take over. “Oliver, this is all wrong.”

  Her thoughts, her desires, these plans, their lies. All of it.

  “Getting stage fright?” They stopped at a traffic light and he turned and snagged her gaze. He was enjoying this, but he covered her hand with his and squeezed. “Hey. It’s OK. It’s for a good cause.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. Her girls and Oliver’s dad. Breathe. “OK. We’ve got barely any answers sorted. I need to know about your world, and we need to create ours. Where did we meet?”

  “Outside work. We literally bumped into each other, right? I think it helps to keep things as true to life as possible.”

  That was easy then. “How long have we been seeing each other?”

  “A couple of months. But we knew immediately.”

  “We did?”

  “Sure.” His grin was now cheeky and mischievous. He certainly didn’t have stage fright. “Didn’t I ask you to marry me that very first night?”

  “But it wasn’t real.” She bit back what she was going to actually say, which was a string of curse words. Because driving over to meet his parents was feeling very real indeed. “So, what’s your favorite color?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “You must have. Everyone has a favorite color.”

  He looked at her jumper, his eyes smoothing over her like a caress. “Pink.”

  “Pink?” She knew it wasn’t, but she went along with him. “Good.”

  “And white spots.” There was a smile hovering on his lips, it hit his eyes and made them dance with fun. He was messing with her head.

  “Now you’re stressing me out.” But making her laugh.

  “Oh, and green. Green’s good. Sometimes. If I’m in a green kind of mood. Oh, wait. What’s that color that’s a bit brown and a bit cream. Trouser-type color.”

  “Beige?”

  He pulled a face. “God, no. I don’t like that.”

  Victoria took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Maybe you could give it a little thought? Your mother is bound to have an opinion on your favorite color. It’s the kind of thing mothers know. There’ll be other things too. I just don’t know what they are yet. Food? Maybe food. Oh, we covered that one already. What about favorite places to go on holiday?”

  “I don’t know, I love skiing but nothing beats a sultry hot Caribbean beach.” He shrugged. “Nepal was epic. Prague is amazing. It’s too hard to choose. Some questions don’t have answers, Victoria. Some things aren’t just black or white.”

  “I think, to pass your mother’s test, shades of gray won’t cut it.”

  “If shades of gray are involved then I definitely want to be too.” He captured her gaze and held it, looking at her the way he’d looked at her up against her back door. Like he wanted to kiss her. Heat skittered over her
skin, raising the hairs on her arms, making her heart race. The longing tumbled back, hitting her in the chest, her belly, lower. She wanted to kiss him. Now. Hard and fast. To see how he tasted, to see how it felt to be in his arms.

  Big mistake. It would be a disaster to get involved with this man. He was too enigmatic, too much for her. She would come out broken at the end. And there definitely would be an end.

  She was so shaken with need she could barely find her voice. “Good acting, Ollie. Award-worthy.”

  But the want in his gaze wasn’t an act and neither was the struggle she saw there too. Despite the humor, their connection was intense and hot and confusing after the hands-off professionalism of the deal. They were so close to stepping over that line. She closed her eyes and balled her hands into fists. This wasn’t going well. This attraction was building and building and she didn’t know how to handle it.

  When she dared look again he was staring out of the car window, concentrating on the driving, propelling them towards his family. She focused on that. “Right. Quick-fire round. Favorite toy growing up?”

  He frowned and thought. “Sega Mega Drive.” His voice was cracked with desire. He coughed, cleared his throat. Sat up straighter.

  “Not a favorite teddy bear?”

  “Didn’t have one.”

  “You must have had one, Oliver.” Really? His doting parents didn’t buy him a bear? “Everyone has a teddy bear.”

  “At home, yes. But not at boarding school. I would have been bullied relentlessly.”

  “Was it hard being away from your parents?”

  “At first. It was different, strange and took a bit of getting used to. But I was an only child to older working parents. I was bored at home, to be honest, and besides, we were all in the same boat at school, so we formed tight friendships. Yes, I missed my parents at first but...things changed. The boys in those houses became family and I preferred to spend time with them in the holidays rather than rattling round my house with no one to play with and parents at meetings or dinners without me. It’s probably selfish but it began to feel as if me being home was a burden, I was in the way of their amazing life where they jet-setted all over the world. We...well, became detached, I suppose. We lost touch as a family really.”