AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And still, it ate away at her that the Sol whom the kids at the centre loved so much was so very different from the bad boy the hospital knew.
She coveted knowing that man, too.
Yet she couldn’t push him. The harder she tried, the more she could see the shutters coming down and still she couldn’t seem to make herself walk away.
‘I’m going for the Christmas cinnamon roast coffee,’ he concluded after perusing the board for a moment. ‘What would you like?’
‘Tea. Nothing fancy, just a plain one, please.’
He raised his eyebrows at her.
‘This can’t be a manifestation of your aversion to Christmas?’
‘It isn’t an aversion,’ she denied awkwardly.
‘You really hate this time of year that much?’
He was turning the tables so casually that she couldn’t be sure if it was deliberate or if he really couldn’t help it. Nevertheless, she opened her mouth to tell him that of course she didn’t.
‘Pretty much.’ She shrugged, the words popping out of their own volition. ‘I know you don’t feel the same. With your home-baked mince pies, and your gorgeous tree, and the Christmas village scene.’
Instantly his face changed and she sucked in a breath, not sure what she’d said.
‘What about the Christmas village scene?’
His tone was too careful.
‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted cautiously. ‘I don’t actually know what Libby meant, she just told me that the kids from the centre do all they can to get together enough money to buy you and Malachi a new piece every year.’
She waited for him to push her on the subject, but instead his expression cleared and he dipped his head before striding to the counter, leaving her to find an available table. And remind herself to stop reading too much into everything that concerned Solomon Gunn.
‘What are we doing here, Sol?’ Curiosity made her drop the question even before he’d finished sliding the tray onto their table. ‘I can’t imagine you bring dates here. At least, not after you’ve already stripped them bare on the desk in an opulent study. Though perhaps before, when you’re still trying to seduce them.’
He didn’t answer straight away, sliding his coat off and dropping into the seat opposite her to stir his drink thoughtfully.
‘I find myself as mystified as you are by this continuing...draw,’ he answered enigmatically, sending her mind into a whirl analysing what he might mean by it.
So much for not reading too much into everything he said or did, she snorted quietly to herself.
‘Which means what, exactly?’
‘I’m debating that,’ he told her. ‘And I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion that these drawn-out, skirting-the-issue games don’t appear to be getting us anywhere.’
‘I’m not playing games.’ Her indignation wasn’t as sharp as she might have expected it to be.
‘Therefore, I would like to propose something else,’ he continued, as though she hadn’t spoken. ‘I contend that allowing it to play out seems to be the most logical conclusion.’
She couldn’t quite dislodge the pocket of air blocking her throat.
‘Play out?’ she asked faintly. ‘As in...?’
His smile was lethal enough to make her fear for her sanity.
‘Sex.’
The statement sliced through the air between them, its simplicity robbing her of all thought for a moment; sending delicious shivers all the way down her spine.
‘One night of pure, unrestrained pleasure,’ he repeated, as though she might not have understood his meaning the first time—but for the wicked smile carved into his handsome face. ‘A conclusion of that night at the gala.’
