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“Shame,” he shrugged in that very Gallic way, all rolling shoulders and pursed lips. “I should like to see her again.”
“So you keep saying,” Cassie laughed. Melinda might have only come to Wine Underground a couple of times, but she’d clearly made an impression on Renee. “I’ll see what I can do. For you.”
He handed the drink to Cassie and shook his head when she held out a twenty pound note. “First one it be on me.”
“You don’t have to…”
“I know. Think of it as gratitude for the date you are to set up with your beautiful Melinda friend.”
“Oui,” Cassie winked at him. “Though I think it’s dangerously close to a kick back.”
“Are you looking for company tonight?” He changed the subject swiftly.
Renee knew Cassie. He knew that she liked to blow off steam by hooking up with handsome guys who wanted nothing more than a bit of fun flirtation. So he was surprised to see her shrug. “I’m not sure yet.” Her lips lifted into a grin. “I guess I’ll see if there’s anyone tempting enough around.”
Renee’s laugh was a pleasant, soft sound. “You are one of a kind, Cass. Truly unique.”
“Why thank you,” she purred, sitting on a barstool that had just been vacated. Renee moved away, tending to another customer, and Cassie settled in.
Her week had been exhausting. Two new clients looking for complete fit outs for their offices meant she would need to organise several international trips to source artwork. She’d also secured the entire collection of an up and coming Serbian artist, who strongly channelled the works of Matisse.
Melinda had been working overtime, too. As a mid-level agent for the United Nations, her work requirements tended to ebb and flow. Every now and again, they flowed fast. So fast that she barely
slept and ate, as had been the case that week. So it happened that she and Cassie had been like ships in the night, barely spending more than a few moments together to catch up.
It had been in Cassie’s favour.
Melinda had been unable to interrogate her about her night with Layth the week before, and Cassie had been able to keep her dalliance with the handsome stranger to herself. Cassie had no problems with her lifestyle, but she adored Melinda, and the thought of disappointing her – again – sat ill on her shoulders.
It wasn’t that Melinda was judgemental. She was Cassie’s best friend, and for reasons Cassie couldn’t quite comprehend, she always thought Cassie’s sexual adventures were a cry for help. A ridiculous notion, and one that Cassie had poo-pooed so many times she’d lost count.
Despite what Melinda thought, Cassie believed her sexuality had a very simple explanation: She worked hard, and played harder. She didn’t need Melinda to worry about her. In fact, Cassie hated that she did. Cassie, for the most part, had things under control.
Admittedly, her relationship, such as it was, with Antonio, had potentially put both women in danger. He had technically stalked Cassie, yet it had been their home he’d invaded. He had crept about the steps to their flats, waiting for Cassie, and he had trailed both of them when they’d gone for one of their frequent jogs. But not all men were like Antonio. In fact, most weren’t.
Most were thrilled to find a woman who wanted a quick romp and then nothing more. Cassie simply said what most of the men she went for were thinking. Or worse, planning! At least she didn’t hang about like a limpet, waiting to be dismissed.
She thought of Layth Sati again, and his invitation to stay for dinner.
What would have followed? Perhaps more mind-blowing sex? At the hint of the thought, her gut contracted painfully. But then? Uncomfortable waiting – on his part, for her to leave, and on her part, for enough time to pass that she wouldn’t feel rude in doing so.
She shook her head. Far better to have kept that encounter short and sweet. As for his business card at the last minute … a shiver ran down her spine. It was in landfill now. Relegated to the presses of the garbage trade. And she would not think of him again.
A handsome blonde man made eye contact with her. He was in a group of five, all similarly dressed. Nice suits, neat hair. Bankers, she would have guessed. Perhaps estate agents. Something very straight-laced and conservative.
Too conservative for her.
She looked back down at her drink, stirring it absentmindedly. Layth would probably be gone by now anyway. Back to whichever faraway Kingdom he heralded from. His complexion was dark. Darker than Mediterranean. His skin had been the colour of coffee all over, and his eyes had whispered stories of deserts and stars.
She had resisted the urge to google his name.
She’d tossed his card away because she had wanted to put an end to what they’d shared. What good could come from knowing that he was a … a what? What was he?
Not an athlete. Though he possessed the physique of a man who devoted his life to physical pursuits, he was too cultured. Too powerful. Though that was a generalisation, she knew. It was almost impossible to describe. She simply couldn’t see him taking orders from anyone.
Blondie was moving towards her. She sensed him, and caught a hint of his fair complexion in her peripheral vision. How wan he was, compared to her vivid memories of Layth. How sagging his shoulders and sallow his complexion!
She blinked in his direction, and then coldly gazed past him. It was a gesture intended to discourage, but it did not succeed. Evidently, having discovered the courage to approach her, blondie was not going to be dissuaded so easily.
