‘The other day, when we were at the Lowry.’ She spoke softly, eyes downcast. ‘I saw the text from Vicky.’
‘I know you did.’ Her gaze jumped to his and he gave her a half smile. ‘The mood between us changed. You were less relaxed. I figured either you’d seen Vicky’s message, or you were cheesed off that I’d booked the tour of Old Trafford.’
Her lips twitched. ‘Then you decided it couldn’t possibly be the latter, because who in their right mind wouldn’t want to see the Theatre of Dreams?’
‘Exactly.’ He shifted so he was facing her. ‘Vicky is a sales rep I used to see from time to time when she was in the area.’ Reaching into his pocket, he dug out his phone and scrolled through his messages. ‘She wanted to meet up a few days after I’d left that first message in the window to you, but I declined. As soon as I got back home after the Old Trafford visit, I messaged her to tell her I wouldn’t be seeing her again. Here, take a look.’
Mia stared at the phone, then shook her head. ‘I don’t need to see your private messages.’
‘Okay, I’ll read it out to you. Hi Vicky, wanted to let you know I’ve met someone. She’s unlike anyone else I know and I’m rapidly becoming besotted, hence this is goodbye.’
Mia took a big gulp of her drink, then coughed, the vodka clearly hitting her throat. ‘That’s, well, a bit cold? Just goodbye?’
He tried not to let it bother him that she’d focused on that, and not the first part. ‘We had a relationship based purely on sex, Mia. She wouldn’t expect … wouldn’t want anything else.’
Her big blue eyes searched his and he wondered what she was thinking. That he was cold? Ruthless even? That wasn’t him though. Maybe it was how he’d become, but detached sure as hell wasn’t how he felt now, sitting next to her in the deserted bar, the lights above the bar casting a soft glow across the place.
After a few more beats of silence, her lips curved upwards. ‘Besotted, huh?’
God, he loved looking at her mouth. Loved looking at her. ‘I’d say that was a fairly accurate description.’
She knocked back the rest of her cocktail. ‘I think I may need another drink.’
It wasn’t the reaction he’d hoped for, but he climbed to his feet. ‘Sure, any requests?’
‘Nope, you choose.’ She waggled her eyebrows at him. ‘Though I don’t know how you can follow a Manchester Bee, an Electric Smurf and a Giggling Yoda.’
‘Such little faith.’ Though as he crossed to the bar, he wasn’t sure either. He surveyed the optics, thinking about the woman on the sofa, and immediately reached for the blue curacao.
Now for the less obvious. Mia was razor sharp, yet she was warm. Genuine. Vodka, he thought. Rum was too sweet, brandy too sophisticated. Gin could work, it was dry, like Mia’s humour, but it was flowery where Mia was more earthy. He added a squirt of lemon juice for the sharpness of her mind, and some soda for the fizz of her personality. Finally, once he’d mixed and poured two glasses, he added some cocktail stirrers which were supposed to look like fireworks, coloured foil cascading from the top of the sticks.
Her eyes widened as he brought them over. ‘Don’t tell me. It’s called Fireworks over the Blue Danube.’
‘Clever, but wrong.’ He touched her glass with his. ‘Here’s to the Blue Mia.’
‘There’s a cocktail called Mia?’
He grinned, enjoying her excitement. ‘There is now.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You named a cocktail after me?’
‘I developed and named a cocktail after you.’ He took a swig. Not half bad. ‘Go on, give it a try.’ She took a cautious sip, looking at him over the top of the glass. ‘What do you think? How do you taste?’ And yes, he was aware of the innuendo.
Clearly so was she, because she shook her head. ‘I’m not going to answer that. Just tell me what’s in it.’
He listed the ingredients and why he’d chosen them, and was rewarded with a shy smile.
‘And the crazy firework stirrers?’
‘They dazzle. Just like you do.’
She pealed with laughter. ‘Oh no, no way.’ Her gaze dropped down. ‘Look at me, I’m sat here in leggings. I’m not dazzling anyone.’
Irritation burned through him, not with her, but with whoever had made her unable to see what, to him, was so bloody obvious. ‘I am looking at you, Mia. The glint of laughter that’s nearly always in your eyes, deepening their glorious Smurf blue.’ He received a roll of her eyes, but her gaze remained fixed on his and he knew he had her attention. ‘The translucence of your skin. The softness of your natural pink lips, the ready smile. The way you’re not afraid to say what you think, no bullshit, no guile. The way you challenge me, make me laugh, proper belly laugh, more than I can remember doing in a long time.’ Unable to resist, he brought a hand to her face, smoothing his thumb across her perfect skin. ‘You dazzle me.’
Her throat moved as she swallowed, that blue gaze riveted on his, a world of questions behind it. Not, he thought, for him, but for herself. Did she really want to do what he was so clearly asking – hell, he was almost begging. Was it right for her? Could she ever trust him?
‘You’re pretty damn dazzling yourself right now.’ Her hand covered his, eyes continuing to search his. ‘Are we really going to do this?’
His heart leapt, sensing her opening up to the possibility, but he didn’t want it to happen like this, him persuading her. He wanted her to be as desperate for it as he was. ‘We’re not going to do anything until you decide it’s what you want.’
She nodded, bringing his hand down and clasping it in hers. ‘What if I want to kiss you? Just, you know, to see if we’re any good together.’
‘You really think there’s a chance we won’t be?’
A smile played around her mouth. ‘Honestly, no. I can’t see you being anything other than a dynamite kisser.’ She licked at her lips, causing a bolt of lust to zap through him. ‘Still, we should try, because if it’s rubbish, we can forget it happened and carry on being friends.’
His gaze wouldn’t shift from her mouth. He wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to breathe. ‘And if it’s not rubbish?’
Another lick of her lips. ‘Then we can maybe do it again.’
He laughed softly. ‘Can we remove the maybe in that sentence? If we’re going to do this right, we need a proper incentive.’
‘Of course we do.’ Amusement flickered across her face, but then her breathing changed from smooth to choppy, and her eyes darkened, the blue turning to more of an indigo. ‘Damn it, kiss me, Luke. The anticipation is killing me.’
He needed no further instruction. ‘Sit on my lap,’ he told her. She eyed him dubiously and he laughed. ‘Come on, I’m not going to bite, at least not our first time.’
‘You say that like there’ll be a second time.’
‘I know there’ll be a second time.’ He pointed to himself. ‘Dynamite kisser, remember?’
‘God, I should never have said that.’
She scrambled over and straddled him, her buttocks settling on his thighs, brushing against his groin, which immediately perked up. ‘Jesus, you feel good.’ He ran his hands down her back, resting them on her hips when what he really wanted to do was nudge her core even closer to the part of him that ached and throbbed.