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Luckily there was only a small scuff mark on the bumper. He rubbed it with his thumb, then climbed back into the car and retrieved his phone from the glove compartment.
However much he might have enjoyed arguing with the girl, the fender-bender had been primarily his fault. She might have been double parked, but he’d taken the corner too fast and run into her. And as she’d pointed out so provocatively, the Highway Code was fairly clear on the subject. He keyed her number into the phone.
Cal always played by the rules. The law wasn’t just his profession, he demanded order and accountability in his personal life too. So he’d have to track the girl down and pay for the damage.
He squinted into the sun and put on his shades, the smile returning.
The thought of seeing her again wasn’t exactly unappealing. He usually preferred the women he dated to be predictable and undemanding. Which made his instant attraction to The Lush Ms Reckless a bit disconcerting. The woman had high-maintenance written all over her—in mile-high neon letters.
But his social life had been non-existent ever since Gemma had called a halt to their occasional sleepovers a month ago—just because he’d refused point blank to let her move in. He liked his own space, his solitude, what was so hard to understand about that? With two high-profile cases lined up already for next month, he’d resigned himself to a celibate summer.
But now the thrill of the chase beckoned—and he had the whole of the August Bank Holiday weekend to play.
Cal tapped his thumb on the steering wheel, remembering the petal-soft skin on the inside of the girl’s wrist, the frantic punch of her pulse and the way her brown eyes had melted to a molten chocolate. The live-wire attraction between them had been mutual. He was sure of it.
Cal’s grin widened as he turned on the ignition. The smashed brake light and damaged bumper gave him the perfect excuse to tussle with Ms Reckless again. And next time she wouldn’t be able to give him the brush-off so easily.
CHAPTER TWO
‘HOW did it go?’
Ruby glanced up at her assistant Ella’s eager enquiry as she flung her bag and the hefty file folder of product photos onto the brand new leather sofa in Touch of Frosting’s freshly painted reception area.
She kicked off her heels and flopped onto the sofa.
‘Don’t ask,’ Ruby moaned, propping her aching feet on the maplewood coffee table—which she’d splurged on a week ago along with the sofa and paint job, convinced she was going to secure the Cumberland order today.
Ella plopped down beside her. ‘But I thought it was in the bag?’
‘It would have been, if Scarlett’s bumper hadn’t fallen off and made me twenty minutes late for my appointment.’ Ruby dropped her head against the sofa cushions and let out a heartfelt sigh. ‘Unfortunately, chefs with two Michelin stars aren’t known for their patience and understanding. Gregori Mallini refused to see me, then his sous chef gave me a ten-minute lecture about how precious the great Mallini’s time is and informed me he didn’t do business with people who couldn’t bother to be prompt.’
‘Oh, no.’
Ruby swivelled her head to see the sympathetic frown on Ella’s face and the usual dusting of icing sugar on her nose and cheeks—and the tide of guilt almost swamped her. ‘That would be the child-friendly way of putting it.’
Ella’s frown deepened. ‘But didn’t you have Scarlett serviced, like, a week ago?’
‘Yes… but that would be before she got hit on by a swanky Italian sports car.’
And my hormones led me astray with its equally swanky owner.
If only she hadn’t got sidetracked by the guy, she would have noticed the damage to her car… Or at the very least given herself enough time to get to the precious appointment on time.
She wanted to kick herself. And she would have to, if her toes weren’t screaming in agony after racing across half of Camden in the high-heeled shoes she’d bought specially to impress a chef she’d failed to actually meet.
‘You were in an accident!’ Ella gasped. ‘Are you all right?’
‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ Ruby said calmly, Ella’s concern making the wave of guilt crest. Her partner in A Touch of Frosting was also her best friend. They’d been BFFs since nursery school. Ella was ditzy, impossibly sweet and a poet when it came to designing cupcake icing. She deserved better than this. ‘I’m fine.’
Or at least she would be when she got over wanting to commit hara-kiri on one of her own kitchen knives. When was she going to start behaving like a grown-up—and stop getting distracted by every handsome guy that caught her eye? She’d been being so good lately, so why the heck had she picked today of all days to fall off the wagon?
Mr Swanky Italian Sports Car probably hadn’t even been all that good-looking. She could see now she had probably exaggerated his appeal because of her nerves over the appointment at Cumberland and the shock of getting rear-ended and having her lipstick shoved up her nose.
Ruby frowned.
Damn.
And here she was obsessing about him again. A guy whose name she didn’t even know. And who probably wasn’t anywhere near as gorgeous as she remembered. When she’d promised herself she was going to stop doing that hours ago.
