Page 4 of Minding Amy


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The barman set a glass and the bottle in front of her. She turned to thank him, tossing her hair back and savoring the heady rush she was experiencing.

That was when she caught sight of the other man.

The man standing further along the bar.

The man who was drinking a bottle of Becks.

Her heart missed a beat. Where the hell had he come from?

He was standing next to a pillar—had he been there all along, hidden from view? She watched in horror as he tapped a copy of The City News against his hand, glancing over his shoulder at the entrance, expectantly.

Oh no. She swallowed and forced herself to look back at the man by her side. He smiled at her, and she noticed how quizzical it was. No, he hadn't been expecting her at all. He'd acted on the fact she'd flung herself all over him, but he hadn't even welcomed her or said her name.

She bit her lip, embarrassment racing over her. There were two of them, and she'd picked the wrong one. She'd made a big, big mistake, the worst kind. She'd made a complete idiot of herself with a total stranger. Stupid, stupid reckless woman, she scolded. Why hadn't she thought to double check she had the right man? Bloody typical, she'd gone and outdone her usual ditzy self this time.

"Are you okay, you've turned quite pale?" The stranger looked genuinely concerned for her.

The voice was wrong. It was deep and sexy all right, but it wasn’t the same as the one she'd heard on the phone. She'd been so enamored with his looks she hadn't even thought about it. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled, to no one in particular. "I've just realized I should have been elsewhere."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

So was she. Damn it, what a fool. And now the other guy, Roger, was glancing in her direction. What if he came over? She would have to bolt, there was nothing else for it—she would have to do a runner after all.

Amy staggered up from her stool, pulled a ten pound note out of her bag and dropped it onto the bar.

"Excuse me," she said in the general direction of the man at her side, without making eye contact. "I've got to err, dash off, now."

The stranger didn't let her escape easily. He put out his hand and grasped hers and when he had her attention, he raised it slowly to his lips. She felt their firm touch on her skin. The lingering kiss and his warm breath sent a tingle across the entire surface of her body, kindling a flame of desire deep inside. His sexy green eyes glanced up at her and he smiled again as he lifted his head. He was gorgeous—and she had to leave. The cruel irony of her situation did not escape her.

Amy stifled a disbelieving laugh and without taking another glance at either of the men, she set off with as much dignity as she could muster, the wretched heels scrambling under her as she sped toward the exit.

* * * *

Sebastian Armitage watched the woman high tail out of the bar with a regretful stare. What a siren. He'd been more than happy to go along with the rather surreal charade because she fascinated him. The fact she was one sexy lady had made it all the more interesting.

She'd obviously mistaken him for someone else, but why? He took another swig of his beer and glanced along the bar. The man who had caused her to take flight had a copy of The City News neatly folded beside his unused glass. He was drumming his fingertips on the polished surface of the bar, occasionally glancing toward the door behind him.

Sebastian wasn't a stickler about such things, but he knew he looked nothing like that bloke down there, apart from the similarity between his chosen drink and the newspaper in his possession. The man was pleasant enough, but no one could mistake them for brothers. The later arrival was slim and tall, sort of arty looking. It must have been a blind date, Sebastian surmised. How unfortunate it was for the other bloke that the siren had missed her target.

Sebastian smiled to himself. It was a shame he hadn't got her name and number before she'd taken off. Still, he'd enjoyed the interlude while it lasted. He glanced back at the man down the bar. His curiosity was about to get the better of him. Curiosity ran in Sebastian Armitage's veins. Hunting down information is what he did for a living, and he did it well. He stood up, picked up his bottle and the paper and walked along the bar behind the man. He almost felt as if he should apologize to him. Instead, he sat down next to him and glanced over at the paper.

"Excuse me, but is that the latest edition?"

The man started, glanced around and smiled as if relieved. He was clearly nervous about his blind date. Sebastian gave him his warmest "buddy" smile and gestured with the paper in his hand.

"I think you've got a more recent addition of The City News. Would you mind if I have a quick look at it if you're not reading it right now? It won't take a moment. I want to check something out."

"Of course," the man replied. "Although…I'd better hold your copy in exchange."

He looked embarrassed about the situation but Sebastian shrugged it off easily. He was feeling sorry for the poor bloke. The newspaper had definitely been the signal. He took the paper and sat on a stool about three away from his target. He flicked open the paper.

"It's an unusual one this, a weekly, but not a weekend day publication." It was a rhetorical statement, leaving it open for the other man to engage in conversation or

not, as he chose. Sebastian was adept in such matters.

"I think that's where its strength lies, a bit like a serialized midweek TV show. You know, reliable, familiar, every Thursday evening you pick it up on the way home."

He started to chat—perhaps to take his mind off what he thought was his forthcoming meeting. He smiled and held out his hand. "Roger Green, I'm in TV myself but the similarities are there."

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