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‘No problem. How did it go?’ All he could see was her mouth, a red, sensual curve of pleasure. His pleasure, and hers, filled his head.
‘Really interesting. They gave me plenty to think about when we implement the new groups at Driftwood.’
She nodded. Waited for him to ask, but he didn’t need to. Euan snapped his seat belt closed and leaned across to look into the rear-view mirror. She wrinkled her nose at him, muttering something about back-seat drivers, and navigated out into the stream of traffic.
They drove in silence.
‘Okay, ask!’ The car swung around a corner and she accelerated from the crawl of the main road.
‘I already know how it went. It was a foregone conclusion,’ he protested.
‘I want you to ask!’ The car came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the road.
‘We’re blocking the road.’
She leaned around to face him. ‘We’re not going anywhere until you ask.’
This was beyond all endurance. Her skirt had ridden up as she drove, just by an inch but it was an inch of sheer delight. The seat belt crushed the almost translucent fabric of her blouse against her breasts.
‘Okay. In the interests of traffic control, how did you do?’
A smile spread across her face and desire clenched its delicious fingers around his heart. ‘It was great. Really good. I answered all the questions they asked me, they loved the look of the program. They’re not concerned that I don’t have much of a track record, they say that David gave me a glowing reference...’
‘That was never going to be a problem.’
‘Yes, but it made all the difference.’ Her hands fluttered tremulously in her lap. ‘I think they’re going to take it.’
He couldn
’t hold out much longer. He had to kiss her. They both jumped as the insistent sound of a horn blared behind them.
‘Drive.’ All that Euan could think about was getting her alone. Out of the car. Into her flat. After that... Goodness only knew.
She laughed, signalled an apology to the driver behind her, and drove.
* * *
The first two items on Euan’s list had been accomplished with almost no effort on his part at all. She almost danced out of the car and up the stairs to her front door, and swept into the neat, pale blue and white kitchen.
‘Perhaps we should have ice cream.’ She was grinning from ear to ear.
‘Ice cream? Is that some kind of after-interview tradition?’
She raised one eyebrow in a query and Euan laughed. ‘When I went out for lunch, after you interviewed with David and me, I saw you eating ice cream.’
Her eyes opened wide, as if she’d been caught in a guilty secret. Then she smiled. ‘Yes, I suppose it is. Sal and I used to celebrate with ice cream and all the trimmings when things went well. I’ve got chocolate sauce, and wafers. Or caramel sauce if you prefer. Or both...’
She opened one of the drawers, pulling out a pair of long-handled spoons and a stainless-steel implement. ‘And I have a proper scoop. That’s essential.’
She was holding the scoop up in front of her, and he took it out of her hand and put it on the counter. Moved closer, until his aching body almost touched hers. ‘Don’t think I’m not mindful of the honour of being asked to share the ice-cream tradition but there’s something I want to talk to you about...’
The fragile, unspoken agreement that had held between them while Euan was recovering from his wound had finally broken. Small intimacies, delicious fantasies, had been okay when anything else had been out of the question, but now he was strong again. If going forward was hazardous, then going back was just as unthinkable.
‘Talk?’ She closed the gap between them, wrapping her arms around his waist. ‘You want to talk?’
‘Actually, no.’ Talking was about the last thing on his mind at the moment. ‘But I think we should.’
‘There are some things that you can’t work out in advance.’
