Page 72 of One of Us Is Guilty

If that means he gets into my bed, then so be it. I told myself I could do it.

Then I felt his fingers brush against the small of my back, and the wave of revulsion and anger that followed it.

I swallowed it down.

Could he tell?

‘Why don’t you grab your coat and I’ll call for the car.’

The bar was one of those well-hidden places on the fourteenth floor of a skyscraper. There was no sign for the place in the lobby, and nothing outside the building to indicate that it was even there. But this was the sort of place that not only didn’t need to advertise, it didn’t want to. The lighting was low, with ornate crystal lamps on each table, a black floor, black leather furniture and a long black marble bar. More lighting behind the bar sat in the gold filigree recess that housed the shelving for spirits. Almost every table was occupied, and apart from the low, unnerving jazz track, it was quiet enough that no one had to raise their voice to be heard.

‘You like this place?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, it’s very cool. Too cool for me.’

‘You belong in places like this,’ he said.

I looked around at the other women in the bar. Sleek, dark cocktail dresses and heels. I was in black jeans and a charcoal low-cut tee. Boots though, which I was now grateful I’d chosen that morning instead of my beat-up Nike Cortez.

‘I’m not dressed for somewhere like this,’ I said. ‘I’m not evensure I have anything to wear that would make it look like I fit in here.’

‘Don’t be silly. You’re the most attractive woman in the room.’

I smiled, and tried to hide the embarrassment by staring into my drink and stirring it with my cocktail straw. He’d ordered for me, of course.

‘You think I suit a place like this?’ he asked.

‘Sure, you’re, well . . . you know who you are. I mean, you can go anywhere.’

‘I wasn’t talking about money, or power. I mean look around. Half of the guys in here are models. Or they look that way. I know I’m a little older, but I’m not out of place here, am I?’

That was my cue. He’d let me know he was into me, now he wanted to know if the feeling was mutual. If you didn’t know him, and you didn’t know who his father was, I guess on a pure aesthetic level he was physically attractive. Good body, a big smile, cheekbones, blue eyes and that slightly roguish hair, which was kinda preppy, but in a good way. He dressed smart and smelled of money – there was that too.

I gave him a smile, said nothing for a few seconds, then bit my bottom lip, and flashed him a coquettish look. Like he was handsome, but I didn’t want to admit it.

‘Your looks make you fit in just fine,’ I said eventually.

He liked that, took the compliment with a sip from the same muddy cocktail we were both drinking.

‘I get the impression there’s something you’re not saying. You think I’m too old for this place?’ he asked.

‘No, I don’t think that at all,’ I said, and stirred my drink.

‘What then?’

‘Well, people come to places like this to meet their lovers. But you’re not a single man, Patrick,’ I said.

It was the first time I’d used his name. And he liked the way it sounded on my tongue.

‘Does that bother you? I only ask, because you’re very beautiful. I like you. I like you a lot.’

I almost said I didn’t mind at all. That would have been the easy thing. To give him what he wants. To fall willingly into his bed.

To make him trust me.

But that would be a mistake. Not yet.

I reminded myself this man had everything he’d ever wanted in life. To deny him gave me power, and only made him want me more. He liked the chase. If I gave in to his desires too soon the whole thing would fall apart way too quickly.