Etienne heard the tapping on the door and saw Isabella’s face through the glass and his first thought was, Yes, she’s back, like he’d predicted. He grinned as he ambled over to let her in. She wafted fresh air and lemon scent behind her as she passed him, heading straight to the bar.
‘Drink?’ he asked, already taking down two glasses and putting the whisky between them. She used her fingers to drop in the ice and suddenly he was having a déjà vu of the last time they met like this. He pulled a stool beside her, closing the distance between them.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Sorry it’s late.’
He swallowed a slug of whisky, feeling the burn, thinking about the way her mouth tasted this afternoon. The unexpected fierceness of it.
‘Nice to see you again. I was hoping you wouldn’t keep avoiding me.’
She held his eyes at the words, and they were a startling blue, even in the subdued lighting.
‘I’m realising it’s quite hard to do that,’ she said. ‘Honeybridge is a small town.’
He grinned and moved his stool even closer. She put her elbow on the bar and rested her chin on her hand, watching him. He swore he could see the point of a nipple through her top. Tonight was going to be a good night.
‘It was fun today, wasn’t it?’ he prompted, mirroring her pose, resting his chin on his hand, their faces just too far apart to make a move.
‘Itwasfun,’ she said and the tip of her tongue wet her bottom lip. Fuck, she was sexy.
‘But I’m not going to sleep with you,’ she said, with a tilt of her head.
‘Who said anything about sleeping?’ he replied, with a lift of his glass. She laughed before reaching out a hand and poking his elbow on the bar.
‘Let’s be honest, Etienne,’ she said. ‘I find you extremely attractive.’
His eyes widened. She was so honest, always saying exactly what she felt.
‘And I think you’re hot as hell,’ he replied. She nodded seriously.
‘And I can’t seem to control myself when you’re around– even at a children’s birthday party. . .’ she continued.
‘So, maybe you should go with the flow.’ He shrugged, moving his legs to put them under her stool, next to her feet, closing the gap.
‘But I have made a promise to myself, and I take promises seriously.’ She sipped her whisky, grimacing slightly as she swallowed. ‘Especially after everything that has happened to me.’
‘You’re denying yourself pleasure,’ he said quietly. She held his gaze again and he wondered if this was it, the moment when she would finally give in. When she would press herself against him. He felt his breath catch in readiness.
‘I know, I realise that now,’ she nodded. ‘But I’ve only got a few weeks to go– and I want to be true to myself and complete my mission. A year being single to be successful withno sex.’
He exhaled slowly.
‘I already feel so much better than I did straight after the divorce,’ she continued. ‘The restaurant is coming along. The staff’s been hired. Training has started. I’m beginning to think of Honeybridge as home. I have friends, a local, a coffee shop that knows my order. It’s a big thing to me. In fact, it’s massive. When I think about how low I was, how sad, how lonely. I’m making such great progress.’ She paused for breath.
‘But the thing is, I’m facing temptation every time I’m in a room with you. And I’m fighting a losing battle.’
He grinned, feeling more on track again.
‘So, I’m wondering if we can give in to some of that temptation without breaking my promise.’ She circled the rim of the glass with her finger and licked it, looking at him from under her lashes. ‘Spend some different sort of time together.’
‘I’m not a relationship type of guy,’ he said immediately.
‘I’m not looking for that either.’
He rubbed the skin between his eyebrows, confused.
‘So, what do you want?’ he asked.
She took a deep breath.
