Page 7 of When The Night Falls

‘Let’s settle this first,’ he said as Philip grabbed the device to start over. ‘May I buy your drinks for you?’

His gaze was penetrative, and the sight made a lump gather in my throat. I hadn’t noticed it before, but the man was rather intense. Everything about him was.

I swallowed, nodding.

‘Thank you.’ He gave me a look of wonder. Puzzled, I frowned back.

‘So...’ he said while tapping his card against the machine, paying contactless. I blinked. Why hadn’t he done that in the first place? ‘What’s your name, then?’

‘Oh, so you actually are interested,’ I quipped as I watched Philip perform his magic. ‘How funny. I haven’t been bullied by a boy who fancies me since primary school.’

Stealing a glance at William, I saw his mouth bend into a grin. An incredulous laugh slipped out of it. In front of us, Philip pretended not to exist, although he failed at concealing his amusement. From his pursed lips, it was obvious that he was struggling not to laugh. Seeming to realise the same, he walked away to finish my drinks further away from us, probably to give us some privacy.

‘Yes, well, I’m glad I could treat you to some nostalgia,’ William said.

‘More like trauma.’

Glancing over again, I noticed that William had turned slightly away from me to hide his reaction. From my limited view of his face, I saw that his grin persisted, but he was now biting on his lower lip while looking at the floor as though he could barely contain himself.

‘Listen’ – he turned to face me properly – ‘if it’s not obvious already, I seriously regret my behaviour. I hadn’t thought you’d be so...’ His eyes narrowed faintly. ‘Intriguing.’

I snorted. Did he really consider that to be a legitimate excuse for his behaviour? What if I hadn’t been intriguing? What then? Would he have considered his conduct justified?

He was obviously a conceited idiot. Why was I wasting even a breath on him?

Condescension was etched on my face when I finally turned toward him. Even though I was wearing heels, he towered over me. Since I felt small and vulnerable this close to him, I wondered how tall he actually was. Taking my own height into account, and adding it to the fact that I was wearing heels, I reckoned he was at least six-foot-four, maybe five. He was strong, too, which I could tell from the way his shirt and waistcoat strained against his broad upper body.

‘Who would have guessed?’ A wry smile flickered across my mouth. ‘How to seduce an arsehole: accuse him of sleeping with his mother. Turned you on, did it? The idea of her?’

Frightened, I turned rigid when he suddenly leaned toward me. Hardly an inch separated our noses. He was so close that I could smell the alcohol on his breath as it fanned against my face. In my momentary fear, my eyes locked with his, and I was immediately hypnotised by their dominating gleam.

Perhaps this wasn’t a man to be trifled with. He didn’t come across as the sort of man who allowed others to walk over him. On the contrary, he looked to be in the habit of performing that deed himself; I felt walked over. To be honest, under the burning heat of his gaze, I felt vanquished.

‘You did,’ he said firmly.

2 | that’s more like it

His bold reply took me aback. I hadn’t anticipated that he would be so direct, but I couldn’t deny that it was strangely refreshing. Suddenly I grew nervous. My heart started pounding.

‘Well...’ I drew in a deep breath, mustering courage. ‘You got what you wanted – something original.’

His lips tucked into a smile. ‘Without a doubt. Is your name as original as your personality, though?’

The astute method he employed as he made a third attempt to fish out my name impressed me. He was obviously a cunning man, so I reminded myself to practise caution. All the same, it amused me that he wasn’t one to give up.

A vague smile nested on my mouth as I shook my head. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint.’

‘How so? It’s not Electra, is it?’

I couldn’t suppress the giggle that escaped my lips, because the reference was remarkably shrewd. Electra was, in some ways, Oedipus’ female counterpart. William had clearly read his fair share of Greek tragedies, too.

Momentarily inspired by the current theme, I decided to lie. I wasn’t naïve enough to trust him on a whim, so I didn’t feel like giving him my real name. Besides, he hadn’t proved himself remotely deserving.

‘No, but you’re not far from it, actually. It stems from Greek.’

‘Really?’ He looked intrigued.

‘Yeah. Name’s Cassandra, but everyone calls me Sandra.’ I was incredibly amused at my own ingenuity. By choosing that name, I had sort of given him my real one. He only had to cut out the middle and he would end up with Cara, but I doubted he would ever realise that.

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