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‘Where did you learn to do that thumb-lock, incidentally? Very Jane Bond... You’re not army, by any chance?’
Something about his tone made Elle hesitate, as if it was more important to him than he would have preferred to let on. Maybe he was one of those blokes who hated the military, or one who got a kick out of a woman in uniform? Either way, tonight she didn’t want to be Major Caplin, Dr Caplin, or even Gabriella Caplin. She just wanted to be Elle.
‘Self-defence class when I was a uni student,’ she answered, not untruthfully.
‘Ah.’
She might have been imagining it, but she could have sworn he relaxed. So, not a military fan, then.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Fine,’ she croaked out. ‘Thanks.’
She was jerking her head like she’d just electrocuted herself.
‘Are you always so effective at shooting a guy down?’
‘I don’t know where that came from.’ She shrugged. ‘He put his hand on me and I just reacted, but I had tried ignoring him first. I thought he might have gone away.’
The stranger nodded sagely.
‘Ah, you see, that’s where you went wrong,’ he continued deadpan. ‘That’s a polite woman’s logic. A drunken man just thinks, She hasn’t told me to sod off yet, she must be interested.’
Elle laughed. She couldn’t help it. Some of the awkwardness dissipated.
‘I see. Well, thanks, I’ll remember that for the next time.’
A small smiled tugged at those irrationally tempting lips of his.
‘At the risk of a knee to my most valued possessions, can I buy you a drink?’
For the first time that evening, Elle was actually tempted. More than tempted. And it only had a little to do with the devilish grin he’d just flashed, which turned her insides out, and more to do with the man flashing it.
But something made her stall.
It could have been the fact that she’d been about to head for the door before the unpleasant interlude with the drunken duo. But Elle suspected it was more to do with the fact that this man here was ridiculously hot, making her brain turn to treacle and her tongue forget how to function. She’d come here to rediscover herself, not pick someone up. And if she accepted a drink from him, would he think she was somehow...obligated to more? She had no idea, but she was sure that wasn’t going to happen. Still, what were the rules? How did she go about this flirtation dance stuff? The last time she’d dated had been fourteen years ago.
‘I have a drink,’ she managed, buying herself time to think.
‘Which is no doubt warm and unpleasant since you’ve been cradling it for the last hour.’
She wasn’t sure whether to be feel pleased or creeped out. Something about the guy made her feel more the former than the latter.
‘You’ve been watching me.’
His chuckled. A rich, warm sound that made her stomach flip-flop.
‘I wouldn’t say watching exactly, that might sound a bit...off, don’t you think? I happened to be getting the drinks in when we first arrived.’
We?
‘You’re with someone?’ She tried to remind herself that she had no right to feel so disappointed.
‘Over there.’
She followed the direction he indicated, the ridiculous beam rushing back to her face.
‘A lads’ night out?’
