Louis traced the curve of her mouth with a lazy finger, fizzing sensations shooting through him. ‘I was definitely thinking about it.’ His voice was so rough it sounded as if he’d been snacking on gravel.
‘Then why don’t you do it?’ Her voice was not much more than a breathy whisper that sent a wave of hot tingles across his scalp and down his spine.
He leaned across the gear shift and lowered his head until his mouth was barely an inch from hers. Her breath was milk and honey with a dash of cinnamon-sweetness, innocent, addictive. ‘Once I kiss you, I can’t un-kiss you.’
Her fan-like eyelashes came down over her eyes and her right hand came up and slid along the side of his face, the soft skin of her palm and fingers catching on his light stubble like fine silk on sandpaper. ‘You worry too much.’ She closed the distance between their mouths and touched his lips with the rose-petal softness of hers. It was the barest of touchdowns, but an explosion of sensation erupted in his lips. She eased back to look at him, her eyes dark and luminous. ‘See? No harm done. It was just a kiss.’
Just a kiss? Her lips were a drug he hadn’t known he had a weakness for until now. Before he could stop himself, Louis put a hand behind her head, splaying his fingers through the wild curls of her hair. Her mouth opened on a soft little gasp, as if his touch electrified her the same as hers did him.
He lowered his mouth to hers in achingly slow motion, drawn by a force as old as time. An irresistible force that sent his blood roaring through his veins and his willpower flying out the window. His lips finally met hers and incendiary heat charged from her mouth to his. He gave a low, deep groan and increased the pressure of his lips on hers, fuelled by an uncontrollable need for closer, firmer contact. Her mouth opened beneath the insistent pressure of his, her tongue brushing shyly against his. He cradled one side of her face, the other hand still buried in the red-gold tresses of her fragrant hair, his kiss deepening, his desire rising, his self-control wavering.
Ivy whimpered against his mouth, her hands coming up around his neck, her fingers playing with his short-cropped hair.
Every hair on his head tingled at the roots, every nerve in his body was on high alert, every reason for not sleeping with her retreating to the back of his mind. He breathed in the scent of her—spring flowers with an undertone of heady, intoxicating musk. Somehow, he sucked in some much-needed air before taking the kiss a step further, his tongue duelling with hers in a sexy tango that made his blood thunder through his body. Every time his tongue touched hers, a zapping lightning bolt of lust fired through him. Her lips were velvet-soft and he could taste her strawberry lip-gloss and his own salty, earthy and raw desire—a lethal blend of temptation. He knew he would never be able to eat a strawberry again without thinking of their first kiss.
Without thinking of her.
The thought was sobering enough to give him pause. He pulled back from her, lowering his hands from her cheek and the back of her head, his breathing still out of order, his body still roaring with lust. She looked as dazed as he felt—her eyes shining, her lips cherry-red and swollen, her cheeks tinged with pink.
‘Well, that was a surprise.’ Her tone was light, but a small frown appeared between her neat eyebrows and her gaze drifted back to his mouth. She moistened her lips with a quick dart of her tongue, her gaze coming back to his. ‘I didn’t think it would be as...as nice as that.’
‘What? You haven’t enjoyed being kissed before?’
‘Not really, but with you it was...something else.’ She touched her fingers to her lips as if she couldn’t quite believe what had happened. Her fingers fell away and she added, ‘Is it my imagination or was that kiss kind of off the charts?’
Louis fought not to smile. ‘It was pretty damn good. You certainly don’t need any tutoring in that department.’
She cocked her head like an inquisitive little bird. ‘Hey, is that a smile you’re trying to hide?’ Her own mouth was curved in a smile that made something warm spread through his chest. But he could and would keep his emotions out of this. He did it all the time. A kiss was just a kiss. He wasn’t going to commit to anything else that could have more troubling consequences. He unclipped his seatbelt and took the wireless car-key out of its slot on the dashboard. ‘Come on. Let’s eat. I’m starving.’
But it wasn’t a physical hunger gnawing at him.
It was good old-fashioned, rip-roaring lust.
Ivy was still reliving every moment of their kiss when they were shown to their table in the fancy French restaurant in Soho. Their table was in a secluded part of the restaurant and she wondered if Louis had requested it especially to avoid public scrutiny. She knew he wasn’t fond of the attention his high-profile career as an award-winning architect occasionally attracted from the press. She herself had been guilty of poring over articles about him online, but mostly in a he’s-my-brother’s-best-friend-and-I’m-proud-of-his-achievements sort of way. Nothing else. She had zero interest in him romantically...although that kiss had certainly been a bit of an eye-opener. Her lips were still tingling, along with other parts of her body that had rarely, if ever, tingled before.
Louis looked up from his perusal of the menu. ‘Is there anything that you particularly fancy?’
You. Ivy was a little shocked at how much she fancied him. Up until recently, he had simply been her brother’s best friend—the person she could always rely on to help her, which was why she had approached him with ‘the V plan’. But that kiss had changed something inside her. Maybe Louis was right—they wouldn’t be able to go back to the way they’d been. Changing the dynamic of a relationship—any relationship—was something that could be risky.
She wasn’t the greatest fan of change. She’d been in the same job since university, she’d had the same friends since school. She hadn’t coped well with her parents’ divorce when she’d been a teenager. She hated moving house. She couldn’t pack a bag for a weekend away without worrying she might leave something behind that she needed.
But hadn’t things already changed between them? How could she see Louis as anyone other than the first man who had set her mouth on fire? Lust was a new experience for her. Her previous dates hadn’t stirred anywhere near the same sensations in her body—she hadn’t felt a thing from any of them. She had learned from her parents’ divorce that the last thing she wanted to do was develop feelings for someone who couldn’t love her back. But all Louis had done was kiss her and she was hot for him. She could still taste him in her mouth, could still feel the brush of his hand against her face, his fingers buried in her hair.
She shivered and buried her head in the menu, wondering if her cheeks were as warm as they felt. ‘Let me see, now... Snails? Frogs’ legs? Steak tartare?’
‘Tell me you’re joking.’ His tone was so dry it could have mopped up an oil spill.
Ivy gave him a cheeky smile. ‘I’m joking. But, hey, what sort of Frenchman are you to turn your nose up at escargots?’
‘I’m only half-French. My mother is English.’ He picked up the wine list and opened it. ‘The only time I ate snails was when my father insisted on it when I was six years old.’
‘And?’
He didn’t stop looking at the menu, but she had a feeling he wasn’t registering a single word written there. His features tightened as if he was trying to keep an unpleasant memory contained. ‘I was violently ill.’
‘Are you allergic to them or something?’
Louis put the menu down and met her gaze with a now bland expression. ‘No. But, since they’re my father’s favourite dish, I was left in no doubt of how much I’d disappointed him.’ He tapped the wine menu with his fingers. ‘Champagne or white wine...or how about some brandy?’ His grey-blue eyes glinted and something between her legs fluttered like the wings of a moth.
Ivy shifted in her seat, winding her mind back to his earlier comment rather than examine too closely wha
t her body was currently doing. ‘I’ll have white wine. What are your parents like? You’ve never told me anything about them before. Are you close to them?’
He gave a soft grunt that said everything that needed to be said. So too did the bitter twist of his mouth and the ripple of tension along his jaw. ‘I have very little in common with either of them other than DNA.’
The waiter came for the drinks order at that moment and it gave Ivy a chance to surreptitiously study Louis. It occurred to her that she had known him for years—close to a decade—and yet there was still so much about him she didn’t know. He was a reserved type of man, similar to her brother Ronan, which had strengthened the bond between them during her brother’s difficult time in finally embracing his sexuality. But she hadn’t known anything about Louis’ relationship with his family other than he was an only child and that his father ran a large international accounting firm with branches throughout Europe. The unknown aspect of Louis’ character was a timely reminder not to allow her feelings to get involved. But, perversely, it made her all the more fascinated by him. Who was he behind the Mr Amazing One-Night Stand persona?
The waiter left and Ivy picked up the conversation again. ‘Do your parents live here or in France?’
‘They split their time between the two,’ Louis said. ‘My father inherited my grandparents’ chateau in the Loire valley when they died a few years ago. It’s been in our family for five generations.’
‘So, being their only child, you’ll inherit it one day?’
He gave her an inscrutable look. ‘Perhaps.’
Ivy wrinkled her forehead in a frown. ‘Perhaps? What does that mean?’
He let out a slow breath and moved his water glass a quarter turn. ‘It means my father is likely to change his mind after some perceived slight from me, so I don’t have any expectations in that regard. I’ve made my own money. I don’t need his.’
Ivy picked up her own glass of water. ‘Gosh, and here I was thinking my father was a pain in the butt.’ She took a sip of water before putting the glass back down. ‘Not that he was always like that...’
Louis met her gaze. ‘Do you miss him? Ronan told me you used to be really close to him before your parents divorced.’
She found it hard to hold his gaze and looked at the small flower arrangement on the table instead. Her parents divorcing when she was thirteen had been tough, but her father’s rejection of her because of her loyalty to her brother had been the hardest thing she had ever faced. Her father’s love was something she’d thought she’d always be able to rely on, but she’d been wrong. His ultimatum that she cease all contact with Ronan otherwise never see him again had totally blindsided her. To be made to choose between her adored older brother and equally adored father was beyond cruel.
‘I thought he loved me. I really did. I thought he loved both of us, and Mum too back in the day. He used to say Mum’s quirkiness and out-there personality was what attracted him in the first place, but where was his love for her when he had that affair when I was thirteen? Their divorce was bad enough but at least I still got to spend time with my dad on weekend access visits. I never doubted his love for me and Ronan. But, since Ronan told us he was gay two years ago, Dad turned off his love for us like turning off a light switch. I still can’t quite get my head around it. I mean, we’re his flesh and blood, and yet he refuses to have anything to do with us. I feel like I’ve loved someone all my life that I didn’t really know at all.’
Louis reached across the table and covered her hand with the broad expanse of his. The skin on the back of her hand tingled, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, the soft flutter between her legs returning. His eyes were an intense smoky blue—clouds and sky, shadows and sunlight, unknowable depths and shifting shallows.
‘I’m sorry you’ve been so hurt by him. But it’s his problem, not yours. You have to remember you and Ronan did nothing wrong.’
Ivy gave him a wry smile. ‘You should have been a therapist.’
His gaze dipped to her mouth for a brief moment, his own mouth twisting in a rueful half-smile. He removed his hand from hers and sat back in his chair. ‘Yes, well, I’ve been handling difficult people all my life.’
Ivy wanted to ask more about his family, but just then the waiter came back with their wine and, once it was poured, he took their meal order before discreetly melting away again.
Ivy picked up her glass and raised it in a toast. ‘What shall we drink to? One night without strings?’ On the surface she sounded cool and calm about sleeping with him but on the inside her nerves were going haywire. What if she freaked out just as she had the other times? But then she recalled their kiss and thought maybe she wouldn’t freak out. Maybe making love with him would be like kissing him—wonderful, amazing. But how would she know without convincing him to do it?
Louis’ mouth flattened. ‘Here’s the thing—it’s never without strings. It’s rare for two people to want the same thing out of a fling, no matter how short it is.’
‘But as long as we’re clear on the rules from the outset why should it be a problem? I mean, we’re not strangers—we’re friends who will continue to have a relationship once our night together is over.’
One of his ink-black eyebrows rose in a sceptical arc. ‘Will we?’
‘Of course,’ Ivy said. ‘Why wouldn’t we? You’re Ronan’s best friend. I will never forget how much you’ve supported him over the years. You were the first person he came out to, years before he told anyone else. I truly think he wouldn’t have made it without your support and acceptance.’
‘Which is why I’m concerned about this plan of yours.’ His expression was etched in lines of gravitas. ‘What if it proves too awkward to go back to being friends?’
Ivy let out a gusty sigh. Was this going to be the story of her life? Constant rejection? ‘I think you’re looking for excuses not to sleep with me. All right. You win. Forget about my plan. I’ll find someone else.’
There was a tight silence.
Louis reached for her hand again, his fingers warm and strong over hers. ‘No. Don’t do that.’ His eyes held hers in an unwavering lock. ‘I’m still getting my head around what you want from me.’
‘Why? Because I have sexual needs just like anyone else?’ Ivy asked, pulling her hand out of his. ‘I’m not a child, Louis. I’m a fully-grown woman and I want to feel like one in bed with a man. But how can I if I freak out at the thought of undressing in front of a guy?’
‘Have you gone on any dates in the past?’
‘Four.’ Ivy mentally cringed at her paltry number of dates. No doubt Louis’ dates numbered six figures by now.
‘Only four?’
‘Yep, and they were all disasters.’
His dark brows drew together, a shadow of concern backlighting his gaze. ‘Why?’
Ivy released a heavy sigh. ‘The first one of my dates asked me out for a drink. That was fine until he said he forgot his wallet and he suggested we swing by his house and...’
‘You didn’t go with him, did you?’ His frown was deeper, almost savage in its intensity.
Ivy wasn’t sure how to answer. How could she tell him she was afraid of trusting someone enough to let them get that close to her? As physically close as two people could be? Not just physically close but emotionally close. That was even more terrifying. ‘Well, I was so new to dating, I didn’t really know what else to do. He asked me out, so I went with him out of politeness. But once we got to his flat he tried to kiss me and touch me and I found it all a bit too much too soon. The second date was a bit better but ended much the same. We met for a drink and then went to a nightclub and then went back to his place.’
‘Did he pressure you to go home with him?’
‘Not really. I wanted to go. I actually liked him more than the other guy. I thought there was some potential there for a proper relationship.
We kissed a bit, but I can’t say I enjoyed it. And as soon as he started to undress me I freaked out. It was so embarrassing. He must have thought I was a crazy person. I bolted out the door and caught a cab home. The other dates were much the same. I’d be sort of fine until it came to the kissing and touching part and then I would freeze or run. I haven’t dated anyone since. I’m rubbish at it, which is why I have to do something about it before it’s too late.’
‘It sounds to me like you’ve had a bunch of crap dates. You shouldn’t let it put you off dating again.’
Ivy’s shoulders slumped on a sigh. ‘I’m not confident enough to date someone I don’t know. But how can I get to know someone if I don’t date them? It’s an impossible situation.’
There was a silence.
He picked up his wine glass but didn’t raise it to his mouth. ‘Maybe I can help you with that.’
Ivy’s eyes flicked back to his. ‘How?’
His eyes drifted to her mouth once more. ‘We could go on some dates together, to help you build your confidence around men.’
‘You mean sleep with me? You’ll actually do...?’
He held up his hand like a stop sign. ‘Wait. Hear me out.’ He lowered his hand to the table. ‘I think what’s happened with your last dates is, you felt pressured the whole time about having sex straight up. What might help is spending time with me—for instance, where sex is a possibility rather than a given.’
Ivy frowned. ‘Sex as a possibility? Seriously, is that what you think every time you go on a date, Mr Amazing One-Night Stand?’
He gave her a mock glower. ‘Not usually, but neither do I pressure a woman to have sex if I don’t think she wants the same thing. You and I can spend a bit of time together to help you feel more in control.’
Maybe he had a point. The possibility of sex might somehow be less threatening than the certainty of it... And yet strangely, because it would be Louis and not some other guy she was randomly dating, she wanted certainty. ‘Okay. So, where will we go?’
One Night On The Virgin's Terms (Mills & Boon Modern) (Wanted: A Billionaire, Book 1) Page 4