Sophia’s eyes burned with unshed tears and she rubbed at them, refusing to submit. It didn’t help to cry. She’d learned that over the years. It didn’t change anything; it didn’t bring anyone back.
She took a breath and let it shudder out of her. Tired. She was just tired. Time to go home and pour a nice glass of red and a stupidly hot bath. No more distracting herself with Tall, Dark and Handsome and his own personal tragedy. She had enough tragedy of her own to bear.
She pushed out of her chair and finally shut down her computer. Shouldering her handbag and hooking her coat over her arm, she headed out. At least it was late so maybe sleep would be forthcoming for a change and the nightmares non-existent.
She was halfway across the foyer when her eyes were drawn in the direction of the bar, to one lone figure in particular. Even from this distance she knew it was Jack.
He was leaning back in one of the plush armchairs, drink in hand, one leg crossed over the other, his ankle resting upon his knee. He’d lost the suit jacket and tie, his shirt now unbuttoned at the collar and framing his broad shoulders, his posture the only relaxed thing about him because his eyes told another story. Trained on the pianist playing in the corner of the soft-lit room, they were intense, inward, thoughtful, a frown creasing his brow as he stroked his forefinger across his lips.
She should move but her feet felt glued to the floor. And then he stilled, the finger pausing over his lips as his eyes shifted and connected directly with her own. Her belly came alive, tiny little flutters erupting all the way to her throat.
She tried for a smile, swallowing back the nerves and whatever else her body was in the mood to feel. She gave a nod which was meant as a silent goodnight, but instead of leaving she headed for him. What possessed her she didn’t know, but the second his lips curved upwards her body gained a will of its own.
He stood as she neared. ‘Sophia, it’s good to see you again.’
His words lit her up from top to toe, whether he meant them or not. And how could he when she was no one special?
‘And you.’ She gestured to the drink he’d placed on the small round table beside him. ‘Enjoying a nightcap?’
‘The bar’s finest. Can I tempt you to join me?’
Her eyes darted to his, an impulsive ‘no’ dying on her lips as she heard herself say, ‘I wouldn’t want to intrude.’
‘You’re not.’
She looked back to the foyer, to the exit just beyond and where she should be heading.
‘Unless you count the fact you’re taking my mind off my thoughts, which isn’t a bad thing, believe me.’
His honesty called her eyes back to his and then she saw it, in the lines around his eyes, in their stormy glint—the same kind of pain, the same need for distraction that she felt.
‘It’s late and I really should go.’
‘A quick one then...just to say thank you for today?’
She couldn’t say yes. He was a client. This was her hotel. It wasn’t the done thing. Only the same reasoning she’d used earlier was weaker now, in the lateness of the day, the intimacy of the bar and its lighting, with him filling her vision and drowning out the past. Perhaps for both of them.
‘Okay.’ She nodded, her lips wavering into a smile. ‘A small Shiraz...please.’
His grin reignited the nervous flutter in her belly. And it was nerves. Just nerves.
‘Great, take a seat.’
She did as he asked, sitting in the vacant chair positioned at an angle alongside his own and tried to relax.
Relax? You should be leaving. No good can come of you indulging yourself in the fantasy world he represents. It’s not real. Not for you.
‘It’s on its way.’
His voice was real enough; she mentally fought back as he returned, closing her mind to everything but his presence.
‘I hope I’m not keeping you from anything?’
She laughed at the very idea and watched him settle back in his seat. It was disconcerting, bizarre even. It was her hotel and yet he looked more at home here than she did, perched on the edge of her seat as if at any moment she might bolt.
She shifted back, resting her coat over the arm of her chair and crossing her legs. She wanted to appear just as at home, just as calm, just as in control, when she knew she wasn’t.
‘If by that you’re asking whether I have a partner waiting up for me...’ She lowered her bag to the floor, her eyes coming back to his as she straightened up. ‘No, you don’t need to worry about that.’
‘Good.’
Good?
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you flirting with me, Mr McGregor?’
Heavens, where had that come from?
Not only the question but the realisation that she wanted him to flirt with her. She was in trouble and sinking deeper, when she should be at home, running that bath and forgetting her problems in the sanctuary of solitude.
His long, deep laugh put the brakes on her escape plan, the sound provoking her already racing pulse. ‘It’s Jack, remember, and I suppose I was...’
Sophia tilted her head to the side, her curiosity aroused by his tone, his hesitancy. She couldn’t imagine Jack being less than one hundred per cent sure of himself. Maybe she wasn’t the only one struggling with this surprising connection. It actually made her feel better. Not a lot, but enough to ask, ‘Why do I get the impression you’ve surprised yourself with that admission?’
He held her eye, silent for a beat. ‘In all honesty, I’m a little rusty.’
Her smile was slow, growing with her confidence. ‘You and me both.’
And there she went again, encouraging him when she knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t stop.
‘I can’t believe a woman like you could be all that rusty.’
‘A woman like me never really got started.’
The air seemed to crackle in the silence that descended, a stream of unspoken thoughts passing between them.
‘Jack, I—’ She broke off as her drink arrived. She glanced up at her head barman with a smile. ‘Thank you, Peter.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He walked discreetly away, for which she was grateful.
She picked up the glass, took a much-needed sip and regathered her wits to tell him what needed to be said. That she didn’t do flirting, or any kind of dating for that matter. Certainly not with the clientele, or anyone come to that. But as her eyes returned to his, now almost black in the low light, she found her voice failed her.
‘Jack, you...what?’ He gestured at her with one hand, drawing her eye to those long, lithe fingers that looked so capable, so strong, and the heat spread from her core to her cheeks and she swallowed, hard.
‘I’m not sure this is wise.’
‘No,’ he said softly. ‘You’re probably right.’
Disappointment sneaked its way in, and she found her second sip of wine far harder to take than her first.
‘And yet you still came over?’
Her cheeks flushed deeper. ‘It would have been rude not to.’
‘Is that the only reason? You didn’t want to appear rude?’
She felt her eyes widen, her heart pulse in her chest. No, it wasn’t, was it?
The fantasy she’d been harbouring in her office collided with reality, her lie catching in her tone as she said, ‘I wanted to see how Lily and Ms Archer were faring after their little adventure.’
‘They’re fine, thank you for asking.’ His lips quirked, the spark in his eyes telling her he’d seen her lie for what it was. ‘However, me, not so much.’
Her brow pulled together. ‘Really, in what way?’
‘It seems my daughter’s high opinion of me has taken something of a knock.’
She could sense where this was heading, knew she should put a stop to it, but the thrill of it, of what he might admit, had her pushi
ng for more. ‘And why’s that?’
‘She’s taken quite a shine to you and she’s not impressed that I failed to secure her a thank-you dinner.’
She chuckled softly. ‘Why does it sound like both you and your daughter are used to getting what you want?’
‘Because we are.’ He shrugged, his easy grin setting her belly on fire. ‘What can I say? People are powerless in the face of our McGregor charm.’
‘The McGregor charm?’ She laughed again. It seemed Jack had the ability to lift her mood so completely with his boasted charm, no matter how strung-out she was.
‘What?’ He raised his brow at her, his eyes dancing. ‘Are you questioning its existence?’
‘Moi?’ She pressed her palm to her chest in mock sincerity. ‘I wouldn’t dare.’
Now he laughed, the sound resonating through her and making her feel so very alive.
‘You could help me get out of trouble very easily, you know.’
She stilled, her smile as genuine as she felt. ‘Is that you asking me to dinner again?’
‘Is that you saying you will agree this time?’ he quipped, his hopeful expression weakening the last of her resolve.
‘Dinner with you and Lily?’
‘Yes, she can be our chaperone.’
‘Are we in need of a chaperone?’
Too quick. Too feisty. Too full-on, Sophia!
Something flashed in his gaze, something akin to the heat streaking right to her toes as she realised she couldn’t take back her reckless words and knew she didn’t want to either.
‘So, what do you say?’
She didn’t know whether she should be disappointed or relieved that he didn’t answer her question. Not directly at any rate.
But what should she say?
No, because the chemistry between us is scaring the life out of me.
No, because I’m messed-up and in no place for whatever this is.
No, because...just because.
‘You know, I really am starting to question my charm.’
His grin, filled with the very charm she’d brought into question, seared away any intention of saying no.
And what was there to say no to when she thought about it rationally?
She enjoyed his company. She’d enjoyed Lily’s company that afternoon. Would it really be so bad to go to dinner? What was the worst that could happen with his daughter present?
She smiled and raised her glass to her lips, enjoying the anticipation heating the air between them. This was fun. So much fun. And fun wasn’t something she’d had in a long time.
‘Come on, one dinner and you’ll make both mine and Lily’s day.’
She knew she’d regret it later, but...
‘Okay, Jack, dinner it is.’
CHAPTER THREE
AS FAR AS Fridays went, today was certainly up there with the worst and she was late. Really late. She’d agreed to meet Jack in the foyer at six-thirty but it was now gone seven and she was having to call his room to delay it another thirty minutes at least.
‘Jack, I’m so sorry,’ she rushed out as soon as he answered. ‘I’m still tied up.’
‘It’s okay.’
In the background she could hear an excited Lily asking if it was Sphea and she closed her eyes briefly, shutting down the guilt.
‘I can deal with this,’ Andrew said before her.
‘No, it’s fine,’ she mouthed, adding into the receiver, ‘Maybe we could do this another night?’
She cringed after she said it, her ears straining for his response. She knew she was running scared, but she’d had time to sleep on it, a day to think without him in front of her...
‘No, we’ll do it tonight, just let me know when you’re ready.’
Her shoulders relaxed and tensed up again just as quickly. ‘But it’s already past seven. Surely Lily needs to eat and get to bed.’
‘Let me worry about her and you get yourself sorted.’
She said, ‘Okay,’ as she hung up although she was far from okay. The truth was her common sense had returned the second she’d been outside of Jack McGregor’s field of charm, and she’d known she couldn’t indulge this strange fantasy that had overcome her.
She was Sophia Lambert, destined to live and die alone for what she’d done. It was the very same reason she couldn’t go back home and visit her parents. To see Mum and Dad, the way they would embrace her and pretend to forgive. She couldn’t. Just. Couldn’t.
And the more she kept her distance from people, the less likely she was to suffer a similar loss again. It was how she lived her life, how she had to live it.
‘Seriously, Sophia, if I’d known you had plans I never would have brought this to you in the first place,’ Andrew stressed, wearing his own look of guilt. ‘We’re more than capable of dealing with it.’
He was right. They were. And yet here she was, insisting it be her. Seeking a delay that gave her the distance she needed.
‘I know you are.’ She strode forward and gave him a reassuring smile. ‘But you should have clocked off an hour ago. You know Cassie will be waiting for you.’
Cassie, his wife, always planned a candlelit dinner on Friday nights and Sophia knew how much both she and Andrew valued that tradition.
‘Go,’ she insisted, spying the continued hesitation in his gaze.
He shook his head in surrender. ‘Okay, I’m going, but get this delegated and get yourself off. You need fun too.’
His grin was warm, but she could see the concern that cast a shadow over it. She didn’t need Andrew to worry about her. She was fine. At least she would be after the night was done and she could go back to life as normal. Why had she even agreed in the first place?
Silly question. She couldn’t think past the chaos that kicked up inside when she was around Jack.
She watched Andrew go, wondering what it would be like to have that kind of companionship and unconditional love to go home to. Was she a fool to reject it at every turn?
Her phone rang again and she pushed the thought aside. Just work—focus on that.
And she did.
It was almost eight by the time she caught a breather to think about Jack and his daughter. Her inner self laughed at her. Who are you kidding? You’ve been forcing yourself not to think about them all evening.
And Lily didn’t deserve such behaviour. Neither did Jack. It wasn’t his fault she was in a tizz over the way he made her feel.
She picked up the phone and dialled his room, anxiously rubbing at her neck as she waited.
‘Hello?’
The fine hairs beneath her fingers pricked up, her heart tripping over itself and all from his simple hello.
‘Hi.’ She swallowed. ‘It’s Sophia.’
‘Hey.’
She could hear the smile in his voice, imagined him standing before her and basking in its glow. And there she was, drowning in a sea of sensation and losing her mind all over again.
‘I’m ready if you are.’ She sounded breathless, her lungs struggling to function past the churn of nerves...or was it excitement?
‘Great, I’ll see you in the foyer in five.’
‘Great,’ she parroted, lowering the phone and staring at it as if she couldn’t believe this was happening. Any of it.
The evening truly was set. She was going to dinner with a guy who was the stuff of heroes in one of her favourite romance novels and his charming daughter—Single Dad meets Lonely Hotelier—she could see it now in all its fanciful glory and pinched herself back to reality.
For the first time in her adult life Sophia was going to take a risk and let go for a night. She was going to have some fun, safe in the company of Lily, and then tomorrow she would move on. Simple.
Only when she got to the foyer there was no sign of them. The lift pinged its arrival and
the doors opened.
There he was, dominating the opening, her eyes so caught up in him that she didn’t notice the lack of mini-McGregor. Not until he was striding for her, the designer cut to his deep blue suit complementing his smooth, confident stride, his white shirt open at the collar, his grey eyes sharp against his dark skin and pinned wholly on her.
She frowned, looked to his left, his right, behind. She wet her lips. ‘No Lily?’
He paused before her, his smile bordering on sheepish. ‘I took your advice and fed her early. She’s now tucked up in bed as she should be and I’m all yours... I mean...well, you know what I mean.’
Her cheeks coloured, the warmth spreading through her belly and smothering her nerves. ‘You should have eaten with her, not waited for me. We could have postponed.’
‘No chance.’ He grimaced, his hand running through his hair that refused to be tamed and her palms tingled, itching to try. ‘The only way I could get Lily fed and into bed was by assuring her we would still go out to dinner.’
She gave a shaky laugh. ‘She has you wrapped around her little finger.’
‘Don’t all daughters?’
She thought of her own father and banished him from her mind just as swiftly. ‘I hope she wasn’t too disappointed?’
‘No, she just sees it as a reason for us to get together again.’
Her heart skipped a beat. Pleasure, quickly followed by panic. ‘Again?’
He chuckled. ‘Do you have to look so unsettled by the idea?’
‘Sorry, I’m just thinking... I’m sure you have more important things to be doing while in London.’
‘Let us McGregors be the judge of that, hey?’
His light-hearted tone and the appreciative heat of his gaze worked together to lure her into feeling almost worthy of this evening, of a date with someone as impressive as him.
‘Shall we?’
It took her a second to register his gesture to leave, another for his arm to curve around her and for his palm to settle against her lower back. The warmth of his touch soothed away her anxiety and slowly she turned on her heel and walked with him to the door, her head awash with questions.
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