by B. L. Wilde
“You’ve been watching me?” he chuckled. “And here I was thinking I’d spotted you first.” I giggled, adding in that hair flick thing girls do when they’re nervous. I had this act down to a fine art. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“I can’t see any harm in that. You did save me, after all,” I smiled, finally looking up to meet his gaze. Oh, he was making this too easy. “I’ll have a bottle of lager, thanks.”
“Lager?” he questioned. Rule #11: Seductors must always order the same drink as their target on their first contact. This is to ensure a commonality and provide an in for the first official meet.
“What? You think all women drink cocktails? Don’t you ever get sick of conforming with everyone else?”
“Two bottles of lager it is, then,” he smiled, tilting his head. “I just realized I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Oliver Kirkham.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Oliver. I’m Jade—Jade Gibbs.” We always gave our real first name. It was easier that way. A Seductor never handled the same target more than once, so it was safe.
“It’s lovely to meet you, too, Jade.” Oliver smiled, passing my drink to me once the bartender set them down. “Here’s to new acquaintances.” I nodded, clinking my bottle with his.
“So what brings you to London?” he asked after a sip of his beer. “I can tell by your accent that you’re not local.”
“Neither are you,” I pointed out, knowing full well he was an American like me. “I’m here on business,” I continued.
“What part of the US are you from?”
“Florida. I’m in the interior design business—artwork mainly. I look for certain pieces for my clients, and London has it all.” It was good to have a cover story that you actually knew about, and I was a big art lover. It was one of my many disguises.
“That sounds interesting.”
“What type of business are you in, Mr. Kirkham?” I asked, sipping my beer while gazing up at him with my big blue eyes.
“It’s Oliver. I’m in the industrial business, mostly,” he grinned. A few people acknowledged him as they passed, but Oliver kept his eyes on me.
“What does that mean exactly?”
“I run a company that makes machines of all kinds.”
“Oh.” I acted shocked.
“What?” he questioned as his eyes started to roam down toward my chest.
“You don’t seem old enough to run your own company.”
“Oh, I’m old enough, but I’m also a third generation CEO, so I can’t take all the credit,” he chuckled, turning to greet a few more people. “You must have done well in your career, too, Jade. You can’t be more than what—twenty-five?”
“You’re close,” I smirked. “I’m twenty-seven.” I was impressed. Age wasn’t an easy thing to guess with me.
“Mm…you’re not too far from my age,” he mused, licking his lip subconsciously.
“Can I try to guess how old you are?”
“If you want,” he smiled playfully. I already knew his age, of course, but Oliver didn’t know that.
“Thirty…” I paused, pretending to think as I gazed at him. Damn, Oliver was really a good-looking guy. “Thirty-four,” I finally guessed.
“Close,” he chuckled, “but you added an extra two years.”
“Clearly the stress of your job has added two years onto you,” I teased into my bottle.
“You could be right there, Jade.”
“Well, everyone seems to know you in this bar. You must be someone important, that’s for sure,” I mused, looking around.
“I’m heading up a conference here this weekend.”
“Ah,” I giggled, “it all makes sense now.”
“How long are you in London?” I noticed his gaze had moved to my exposed leg and was travelling up my thigh.
“Just the weekend. I’m meeting with a new client in Paris on Monday.”
“You’re here for the same amount of time as me, then,” he stated.
“It would seem so,” I smiled, playing with the hem of my dress timidly. I couldn’t appear too confident. Oliver seemed to like my ‘lost little girl’ act.
“Do you usually travel alone in your line of work?”
“No, this is my first time,” I sighed, taking another sip of my drink. “Our company has taken on a lot of new clients. There aren’t enough of us to go around anymore, so I had to take this job alone. It’s all a little daunting.”
“Don’t you have a boyfriend or husband who could have come with you?” Oh, smooth, Oliver—really smooth.
“No,” I sighed sadly. “No husband or boyfriend.”
“I wouldn’t be so worried about being in London alone. You seem to be doing just fine from where I’m sitting, Jade.”
“Thank you.”
“So, are you meeting a client tonight?”
“I was supposed to,” I sighed deeply, “but unfortunately he had to cancel. I was just about to decide what to do for the evening.”
“You mean you’re all dressed up with nowhere to go?” Oliver stood up. “We can’t have that. Why don’t you join me for dinner in the restaurant?”
“Oh, Oliver, I couldn’t. I…I mean, you probably have a hundred things to do.”
“No, I don’t, actually. Right now, I’d like to take a very beautiful woman to dinner.” He certainly was a charmer, I had to give him that.
“Well, when you put it that way, how can I resist?” I beamed, taking the hand he offered to me.
Oliver wined and dined me with style. The conversation followed effortlessly, and a few hours later we were back in the bar having a nightcap.
“I really can’t thank you enough for dinner, Oliver.”
“It was my pleasure, Jade. I’ve enjoyed your companionship immensely tonight.”
“Do you really own your own company?”
“Why do you ask that?” he chuckled into his coffee.
“You’re so young and…fun. I thought CEOs were supposed to be bald with beer bellies, and be too stressed out to even crack a smile.”
“Are those the kind of CEOs you have as your clients?”
“Yes,” I laughed.
“These interior art skills of yours—how much do they cost?”
“Are you interested in utilizing my skills, Oliver?”
“I’m very interested, Miss Gibbs.” Oliver’s look became almost predatory.
“Maybe we should take this conversation elsewhere, then?” I suggested, looking around the bar.
“Where did you have in mind?” he asked, moving a little closer, his hand lightly skimming my leg.
“I was thinking of retiring for the night. It’s getting quite late,” I breathed, stretching out to play with his tie.
“Alone?”
“Actually, I was kind of hoping for some company,” I whispered timidly, pushing off my stool and slowly walking toward the lobby area. Counting to five, I turned to see Oliver walking toward me, looking dark and dangerously handsome. I was actually looking forward to seeing if this guy was any good in bed.
I pushed the button for the elevator and leaned against the wall just as he caught up with me.
“I hope I’m reading these signs correctly,” he grinned just as the elevator doors opened. With a small grin, I stepped in and pulled him with me. Oliver crashed his lips against mine right as the doors closed behind us.
To Be Continued…
About the Author:
B.L. Wilde is a British author obsessed with many things, including heated love stories. Supported fully by her husband, she can often be found at her desk working on her next project.
Her journey into the world of erotica began when she started writing online stories over three years ago, and she hasn’t looked back since.
ith friends