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He didn’t reply, just stood watching her, a tight expression on his face. As her fingers pressed against his hot skin to feel the hard muscle of his arm, Nick’s eyes flared. Even she, a tiny bit more than a teeny bit drunk, recognised the heat she saw there.
‘You can kiss me again,’ she told him softly. ‘You know, if you want to.’
* * *
Her husky voice wrapped round his balls and tugged at them. How many years had he loved this woman? How many years had he wanted her? So why wasn’t he forgetting all his principles and sweeping her into his arms? Into his bed? He’d taken other women to bed on far less invitation.
He watched, spellbound, as she tucked a strand of silky blonde hair behind her ear, her tongue darting across her full bottom lip. Another bolt of desire shot through him.
‘Do you want me to?’ His voice was thick, his arousal an aching throb between his legs.
She seemed surprised at his question. ‘Of course.’
He bent his head, a heartbeat away from taking her up on her offer. From touching his mouth to those soft, inviting lips and plundering the sweet depths he knew he’d find behind them. But then instead of gazing at her eyes, he stared into them. Still large and blue, they were alarmingly unfocussed.
As if he’d stepped into an ice cold shower, sanity returned. She wasn’t a teeny bit drunk. She was out of her head drunk. If he took her to bed now, he’d be no better than that blasted son of a bitch, Charles. Worse, when she woke up in the morning, their friendship would be over.
So instead of kissing her until they both couldn’t stand, he clutched at the last dredges of his restraint and drew back, sliding his arm around her waist. ‘It’s time you were in bed. Come on.’
She didn’t complain when he almost hauled her up the stairs, but giggled every now and again when she lost her footing. When he stopped at her bed and gave her a slight shove, she collapsed onto it, smiling dreamily. He debated helping her undress, but there wasn’t a huge gap between clutching at restraint, and saying to hell with everything and just taking what he wanted.
‘Goodnight, Lizzie.’
He doubted she heard the words. She curled onto her side, closed her eyes and fell sound asleep.
Chapter Fourteen
When she woke the next morning, Lizzie was convinced a herd of buffalo were stampeding through her head. There couldn’t be any other explanation for the incessant pounding. Clutching at her temple, she lay back against the pillow and sighed deeply. She was twenty-six, not sixteen. Old enough to have learnt when to stop drinking. Experienced enough to know if she didn’t, she paid for it the next day, in spades. Staggering off the bed, which brought a whole new dimension of dizziness and nausea to the uproar in her head, she fumbled around in her handbag for the paracetamol tablets she had the sense to keep there. It was just a shame she hadn’t had the sense to take the flipping things last night. After swallowing a couple, she snuggled under the duvet and drifted back to sleep.
When she woke again an hour later, the herd of buffalo had slowed to a walk and she felt strong enough to risk getting out of bed. As she peeled off last night’s clothes — nice, who said models today didn’t have standards — she saw a note that had been pushed under her door. Hope your head survived. Give me a call when you surface, Nick.
Smug bastard. Scrunching up the paper, she called him all kinds of names under her breath. Why wasn’t he suffering, like she was? Weren’t they both meant to have been drinking? Wasn’t that the point of sharing a bottle? Clearly not when you shared one with Nick Templeton. He obviously preferred to ease back and watch while his companion made a fool of herself. Charming.
Slowly she made her way down the stairs, thanking all those painful lessons in deportment that enabled her to keep her head reasonably still. When she reached the kitchen she grabbed at the phone and dialled Nick’s number.
‘Templeton.’
‘Why did you let me drink so much, you bastard?’
A deep chuckle echoed down the line. ‘The mood you were in, there was no stopping you. I certainly wasn’t prepared to risk a punch in the ribs trying. Anyway, it probably did you good to let your hair down.’
‘That’s not what my head is saying right now.’
Again he laughed. ‘Drink lots of water, take some headache tablets and go for a long walk. You’ll feel right as rain in a few hours.’
‘Yeah, well, I’ve done the first two already and I still feel lousy.’ She hesitated. ‘Did I say or do anything embarrassing last night?’
‘You mean other than inviting yourself into my bed?’
She swore, and was rewarded with more rich laughter. ‘If you were a decent man you’d have got drunk with me. At least then neither of us would remember what we said the next morning.’
‘I think it’s a good job I stayed sober.’
She had a burning memory of the feel of his lips on hers. ‘Perhaps.’
Silence hung between them for a few seconds. ‘Well, enjoy your day, Lizzie. I’ll try not to be late back.’
With a heavy heart she put down the phone. So, it seemed she’d propositioned Nick twice now. Sure, both times she’d been the worse for drink. But both times he’d turned her down.
