His eyes moved between each of hers—back and forth, back and forth—each time making her heart beat a little faster. Then they dipped to her mouth and he slid a hand along the side of her face until his fingers were entangled in her hair. ‘It’s always a possibility, but let’s wait and see.’ His tone contained a relaxed go-with-the-flow note but his eyes communicated something else. The flared pupils, the concentrated focus, all spoke of a man who was tempted, seriously tempted, to act on his primal desires.
Ivy didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. She was stuck in a strangely exciting limbo of ‘would he or wouldn’t he?’ She began to step back, but before she could take even half a step he caught her by the wrist, his fingers overlapping.
‘It’s not that I don’t want to, ma petite.’ His voice had dropped even lower in pitch and it sent a wave of goose bumps tiptoeing over her skin. He brought her wrist up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her leaping pulse, his eyes holding hers. ‘I’ve been thinking about little else all day.’
Ivy swallowed. ‘Really?’
He gave a rueful slant of a smile. ‘Really.’ He released her wrist and stepped back to open the door. ‘We’d better get going. They won’t let us in until after the interval if we show up late.’
Ivy followed him out of her flat to where he had parked his car half a block up the road. He helped her into the passenger seat and pulled down the seatbelt for her. She clipped it into place and watched as he strode around to his side of the car, the lines and planes of his face so familiar and yet so strange. It was as if she were seeing him for the first time, not as her older brother’s friend but as a virile thirty-four-year-old man with primal drives and desires. A man who was attracted to her and, unless she was very much mistaken, tempted to do as she asked. A tiny frisson passed over her flesh and her breath hitched at the thought of him being her first lover. Maybe even tonight.
Louis slipped into the driver’s seat beside her and sent her a glance. ‘Relax, ma petite. We’re just hanging out together to see what happens. Okay?’
Ivy could feel a blush rising to the roots of her hair. ‘How did you know what I was thinking?’
He gave a slow smile and started the engine with a throaty roar. ‘Because I’m thinking it myself.’
He backed out of the parking space and deftly wove into the traffic, and for once in her life Ivy was lost for words.
Musicals weren’t really Louis’ thing, but he enjoyed watching Ivy being captivated by the songs, the costumes and stage set of the popular musical. She looked captivating herself in a dress that hugged her breasts and thighs, her impossibly high heels showcasing her legs and ankles. Every now and again he caught a whiff of her flowery perfume and, every time she glanced his way with her shining gaze, his heart would trip like a foot missing a step on a ladder.
The theatre was packed, and he was dreading being noticed, but it was worth it to see Ivy having such a good time. During the interval, once they had their drinks with them in the private box, she leaned closer to point out something in the programme he’d bought her. ‘Hey, isn’t that the actor in that BBC drama you recommended a few months ago?’
Louis looked at the name and nodded. ‘Yep. That’s her.’
‘Did you ever date her?’
‘No.’
Ivy swept her gaze over the audience below. ‘On balance, given you’ve slept with so many women, there must be a few of your past lovers here, don’t you think?’
‘It’s highly unlikely.’
‘Why’s that?’
He turned his head to look at her. ‘The press grossly overstates my sexual proclivity. If I’d slept with as many women as reported, I’d never have been able to build such a success of my career.’
‘Why are you driven to work so hard? Ronan told me you hardly ever take holidays and you often work weekends and public holidays.’
Louis leaned back in his seat and picked up his glass of champagne from the holder on his seat. ‘I run an architectural business. I have people depending on me, clients and staff, and I’m committed to doing a good job of everything I take on.’ He took a sip of champagne, savouring the pear and honey notes.
‘Do you enjoy it?’
‘Of course I enjoy it.’ He put down his glass and glanced at his watch to see how much longer before the second half of the show. ‘It sure beats the hell out of being an accountant.’
‘Is that what your father wanted? For you to work in his accountancy firm?’
Louis was conscious of his jaw automatically tightening. ‘In my father’s mind, I let the family line down by pursuing architecture instead of accountancy like him and his father before him. The Charpentier accountancy firm will end with my father and for that he will never forgive me. Nor, I suspect, will my mother, mostly because she desperately wants grandchildren and I’m not interested in providing them.’
He picked up his champagne again and took another sip. That was another feeling he suppressed—the guilt he felt about his mother’s hopes and dreams being dashed by his decision.
Ivy’s small white teeth sank into the pillow-softness of her lower lip and her eyes lost their sparkle. ‘Oh, Louis, that’s terrible. You have to live your own life—fulfil your own dreams and aspirations instead of those of your parents’.’
‘Try telling them that.’ Louis gave a twisted smile and put his champagne glass down again before he spilled any more family secrets.
‘Maybe you’ll change your mind about having kids one day,’ Ivy said after a small silence. ‘Lots of men do. Even Ronan is considering having a child with Ricky via a surrogate. He’ll be a great dad, and so would you if you’d—’
‘I won’t change my mind.’
Just then the bell rang to announce the end of the interval and people started filing back into the theatre.
Louis was relieved the conversation was halted by the bell. He rarely spoke to anyone about his family. Not out of a sense of disloyalty to his parents but rather because it was nothing short of depressing to know how much of a disappointment he was to his family. The strange thing was, his grandfather had been exactly like his father—nit-picking, pedantic and overly critical of anyone who didn’t follow his orders to a T. Another good reason for Louis to resist the biological drive to procreate. The last thing the world needed was another difficult Charpentier.
Ivy left the theatre with Louis after the musical came to an end. She had enjoyed it immensely but found she could barely recall what’d happened in the second half because she’d been mulling over what Louis had told her about his family. And his adamant stance on never having children. Even though she knew it was none of her business what choices he made about his life, a part of her felt sad he would never experience the joys of parenthood, not to mention the satisfaction of a long-term relationship with a partner. He said he had never fallen in love, but she wondered if he would never allow himself to, closing off his emotions so he wasn’t made vulnerable by anyone. She, on the other hand, longed to be loved and supported by a lifelong partner, someone who wouldn’t reject her or give up his love for her the way her father had done so easily.
Louis led her to a wine bar that served cocktails and light meals, a short walk from the theatre. Their table was upstairs in an exclusive and private section that overlooked the bustling street below.
Ivy sat on the plush velvet wing-back chair opposite Louis and looked around the room with avid appreciation. ‘This is gorgeous. I’ve never been here before. I feel like royalty or a celebrity or something.’
‘A friend I went to university with owns it,’ Louis said, handing her the cocktail menu. ‘What would you like to drink?’
Ivy looked at the array of exotic cocktails. ‘Let me see, now... Gosh, so many to choose from. What do you recommend?’
‘How about a strawberry gin cocktail?’ He pointed to the one on the menu.
‘Sounds good. I love strawberries.’
His eyes flicked to her lips and one side of his mouth curved upwards. ‘I’ve developed rather a fancy for them myself lately.’
Something about his wry tone sent a light shiver over her skin.
Their drinks soon appeared, and soon after that a light tapas-style supper followed, with a host of flavoursome delicacies both savoury and sweet. Once she had eaten her fill, Ivy dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her linen napkin and, setting it aside, sat back in her chair. ‘That was amazing. Thank you for taking me out tonight. I’ve had the best time.’
‘My pleasure. I enjoyed it too.’
She twisted her mouth. ‘You don’t seem like the West End musical type. I thought you’d rather go to a classical symphony concert.’
Louis shrugged one broad shoulder and then leaned forward to pick up his cocktail. ‘You’re making me sound staid and boring.’
‘You’re definitely not that.’
His eyes locked on hers and a faint prickly sensation ran down her spine and down the back of her legs. She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips and drew in a wobbly breath. Either that strawberry gin cocktail was going to her head or Louis was making her feel things she had never felt before. The energy in the air shifted, a subtle tightening, as if all the oxygen particles had been disturbed.
A band was playing in the background and Louis leaned forward to put his cocktail back on the table. He pushed back his chair and stood, offering his hand to her. ‘Would you like to dance?’
‘Sure. Why not?’ Ivy took his proffered hand and went with him to the small dance floor. They moved in perfect time to the sweetly cadenced ballad, and she was conscious of every point of contact with him. One of his arms was around her, his other hand holding hers, her cheek resting on his chest right where his heart beat so steadily. Her heart was doing an Irish jig in her chest, and when he tipped up her face to meet his gaze it did a backflip.
His arm around her tightened just enough to bring her closer to the heat of his pelvis, his mouth slowly, ever so slowly, coming down to hers. His lips were warm and gentle, but then his pressure increased, sending shooting sparks of pleasure through her body. His tongue stroked for entry—a lazy let-me-play-with-you stroke that sent a lightning bolt of lust straight to her core. She suddenly remembered they were in a public place, on a dance floor surrounded by other people, and she pulled back, biting her lip where his tempting tongue had just been. ‘Sorry. A bit public for me.’
He gave both her hands a squeeze and smiled. ‘You’re right. Now is not the time or place.’ He led her back to the table and they each took their seats.
Ivy aimed her attention at his mouth rather than hold his gaze. ‘But when and where will be the time and place?’ He didn’t answer for so long, she brought her gaze up to meet his.
His expression was difficult to read, but somehow she sensed he had come to a decision in his mind. ‘What are you doing next Friday night?’
‘I haven’t got anything planned. Why?’
‘I have a place down in the Cotswolds. I thought we could spend the night there and drive back on Saturday morning.’
Ivy blinked. ‘Does that mean you’re going to...?’
‘You have a one-track mind.’ His tone was playfully reproving. ‘No, it doesn’t necessarily mean we’re going to sleep together.’
‘But what is the point of us hanging out together if you don’t do what I asked you to do? I’ve only got three weeks now until my birthday. Time is rapidly running out.’
‘Why the big hurry to do it before your birthday?’
She opened her eyes wide. ‘Why the hurry? Because I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t still be a virgin by then. If you’re not going to help me, say so, Louis. It’s not fair to string me along if you’ve no intention of—’
‘I would do it in a heartbeat if I was confident we both wouldn’t regret it in the end.’
‘You know what I think?’ Ivy shot him a heated glare. ‘I think you’re the one who’s worried about getting hurt in the end. You spend your life sleeping only once with women you’ll never see again because you’re worried about feeling something for someone.’ She snatched up her bag from the table. ‘Thank you for this evening. I’ll make my own way home. And I’ll find someone else to help me, so you’re off the hook. Goodbye.’
‘Ivy.’ His voice had a commanding note. ‘Wait.’
She turned from the door to face him. ‘I’ve wasted enough time waiting. I get it. You don’t want to help me. You’re not attracted to me even though you give a very good impression of it. But I’m a big girl. I can handle the rejection. God knows, I’ve had plenty of practice.’
He came over to her and took both her hands in his. A battle played out on his features, a war of conflicting emotions he was clearly trying to hide, but she could see it in the shadows in his eyes and the tightness in his jaw and the thinning of his lips. ‘Okay. Here’s the deal. One night and one night only. I’ll pick you up on Friday after work. And on Saturday we go back to being friends as normal.’
Ivy wanted to refuse his offer out of pride but the thought of anyone else sleeping with her turned her stomach. It had to be him. ‘Okay.’
He gave her hands a quick squeeze and then tucked one of her arms through his. ‘Come on, Cinderella. Time to get you home.’
Louis spent the following week wondering if he needed his head read for agreeing to Ivy’s plan. He’d been at war with himself from the moment she’d put it to him. He’d been dragging his heels, not so much because he didn’t want to do it but because he did. Badly. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted her.
Normally his week at work flew past but this one dragged as if someone had slowed down time. He had deliberately delayed going down to the Cotswolds for another week to give her a cooling-off period. Didn’t all good business deals involve a cooling-off period? And the only way to approach her plan was to keep things businesslike. One night was all she wanted. One night was all he ever gave. But Louis became so restless and on edge, he finally caved in and called Ivy on her mobile just after two on the Friday.
‘What time will you be ready? A client cancelled a meeting, so we can go earlier to get ahead of the traffic.’ It wasn’t exactly a lie—a client had cancelled, but it had been earlier that morning. Louis had plenty of work he could have seen to if he’d wanted to but he couldn’t wait to whisk Ivy away to his own private little paradise.
‘I’ll be ready in half an hour.’
‘Perfect. See you soon.’ Louis clicked off his phone and took a deep, steadying breath. If his secretary, Natalie, could have seen him now—leaving work in the middle of the afternoon and taking most of the weekend off—she would have raised her brows until they disappeared under her fringe, or reached for a thermometer and threatened to call a doctor. He smiled and pushed back his chair to stand, grabbing his keys and phone off the desk.
For once, work could wait.
CHAPTER FOUR
IVY WASN’T THE best packer on the planet for an over-nighter. All the weekend access visits to her father after her parents had divorced during her teens had ramped up her anxiety to the point where now she couldn’t pack a bag without worrying about all the things she might need, so she took everything just in case. Her bedroom looked as if it had been done over by a burglar. Her wardrobe had turned into a ‘floordrobe’ and she couldn’t find the matching knickers to her favourite black bra.
Why hadn’t she bought some new underwear? What if Louis was turned off by her lingerie? But there was a new level of anxiety in packing this particular bag. She was actually going to do it.
She was going to have sex. With Louis.
The doorbell sounded and her stomach dropped. He was here and she wasn’t properly prepared. The day was finally here and she was stuffing around, trying to decide what underw
ear to take. She went to the front door and opened it, her heart doing a funny little hopscotch when she laid eyes on Louis, still dressed in his business wear, although he’d removed his tie.
‘I’m almost ready. Do you want to sit down while I finish packing? Or shall I make you a coffee or something? A juice or—?’
‘Don’t be nervous, ma petite.’ His husky tone almost made her swoon, so too the look of concern in his eyes.
Ivy could feel a blush stealing over her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry to be so flustered. I’m just hopeless at packing. I always take too much stuff and then end up without the things I most need.’
He gave one of his slanted smiles and her heart tripped again. ‘You look good in anything you wear.’
A pool of heat swirled in her lower body and her pulse went off the charts. ‘So do you.’
A twinkle came into his eyes. ‘Are you flirting with me?’
She gave him a coy smile. ‘I think I might be.’
He stepped across the threshold and closed the door, taking her by the upper arms and bringing her close to his body. His eyes darkened and became hooded, his head bending down so his mouth was just above hers.
‘I told myself I wouldn’t do this, but I’ve been thinking about nothing else for days.’ He closed the distance between their mouths in a kiss that threatened to blow the top of her head off. Desire flared and ran like hot flames through her body. His tongue entered her mouth on a silken thrust that had distinctly erotic undertones and she shivered in delight. His hands moved from her upper arms and went around her body, drawing her closer to his hard frame. She could feel the thickening of his body, the signal of his arousal, and another wave of incendiary heat swept through her. One of his hands came up to cradle the back of her head, his fingers splaying through her hair. He groaned against her mouth, a deep, guttural sound that sent a shudder of need right through her body. It was beyond thrilling to hear and feel his response to her. It made her confidence grow, like a plant starved of water finally receiving a life-saving drink.
One Night On The Virgin's Terms (Mills & Boon Modern) (Wanted: A Billionaire, Book 1) Page 6