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‘What can I get you?’ The pretty girl simpered and sizzled, pouting in a way that Mattie knew—with perhaps a hint of envy but no real jealousy—would have made her look like a constipated duck had she herself ever had the nerve to try.
Who knew it was even possible to sound so seductive whilst still being heard over the thumping music?
‘Two margaritas.’ His smile was audible in his voice. And altogether too close to her ear.
A thrill rippled through her, unsolicited.
She hated it that she could conjure up that sensually crooked mouth as surely as if she’d been staring right at it. Was it any wonder that the poor bartender could barely contain her swoon? And the girl hadn’t even heard the last part of Kane’s words, when he’d dropped his lips to brush her ear, his low voice setting off those faithless goosebumps all over again.
‘What do you say, Matz? For old times’ sake?’
‘I’m not drinking with you,’ she muttered. Rather weakly to her own mind.
‘Oh, don’t worry.’ Amusement laced his words. ‘They use proper agave tequila and a quality agave syrup here, none of that overly sweet triple-sec stuff that you and I used to drink as kids.’
‘You can’t appeal to my sense of nostalgia,’ she lied. ‘Besides, it isn’t the ingredients I object to. It’s the company.’
‘Liar.’ He laughed. Altogether too low, and too male.
It cascaded through her. Right down to between her legs. Once she’d been the only person who could ever make Kane laugh. Who else had made him laugh in the last fourteen years?
‘Is that why you can’t turn around, Matz?’
And then he placed his hand lightly on her shoulder, making her pulse flutter at her neck, and it was a fight—an actual tussle between mind and body—not to let her head tilt to one side and rest her cheek against that hand.
How could he read her so easily? Know just which buttons to push? She was a successful, independent woman, who had flown into perilous combat zones and performed life-saving operations under fire. She hadn’t felt these precariously jell
y legs and erratically pounding chest since she’d been a teen. Yet here she was, fighting to control her own body’s perfidious responses.
Fighting, but not succeeding.
In all these years she had never been able to decide between the part of her that had never wanted to see Kane again and the part of her that had fantasised about this moment. It was pathetic, really. She was pathetic.
So why did she feel so alive?
The male bartender finally made it over with the collection of drinks for her group, the female one following closely behind with the two Kane had ordered, and they set them all down on the bar. Mattie’s brain spluttered back into life and she reached for her money, but before she could open her purse Kane reached his other arm over her shoulder and handed a note to the guy.
‘No change,’ he murmured discreetly as the guy tipped his head in tacit gratitude and the woman hovered for a moment before apparently accepting defeat.
Finally, finally, Mattie turned to face him, and it was so much worse than the previous day.
Yesterday she’d still been in shock at seeing him again. Today everything about him seemed so much...more.
He’d always been dark, dangerous, edgy, but now he seemed positively lethal. She had probably noticed yesterday, though it hadn’t quite registered. He was unlikely to be any taller than he’d been almost a decade and a half ago, yet it seemed as though he was. He was certainly bulkier. He’d always been lean yet muscly but now he seemed to be more of a powerhouse of a man.
It suited him. As her body was only too eager to point out. She licked her lips, trying to eradicate an odd, parched sensation, and when his eyes flickered down to watch the movement, something turned round and round inside her.
‘You shouldn’t have paid,’ she managed. ‘You...’
She tailed off uncomfortably.
‘I can’t afford them?’ he finished lightly, reading her mind far too easily. He cocked one eyebrow. ‘That was a lifetime ago. I’m not that poor kid from the worst part of the estates any more.’
‘No, of course not,’ she conceded quickly, angry with herself for not stopping to think.
That had always been the problem with Kane. People had judged him without actually knowing. They had made assumptions. Usually, they had dismissed him. No one had ever really wanted to see a spark of decency in any kid from the Wheeler clan. The son of Mick Wheeler, a man who was feared only a little more than he was hated across affluent Lower Heathdale and struggling Heathdale town alike. And the younger brother of Richie and Robbie Wheeler, who were feared and hated across the whole damned county.
Even she had dismissed Kane, until she’d been accidentally paired up with him for a school project and had seen a different Kane Wheeler that no one else seemed to have bothered to look for. For two years they’d been inseparable. Even Hayden, initially disapproving and protective of his sister, had seen a different side to Kane.
