Page 6 of When The Night Falls

Suddenly his bare and muscular forearms entered my peripheral vision. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them resting on the counter beside me. He had rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, and the grey waistcoat that he wore on top clung to his robust anatomy, serving as an unfair reminder of his tantalising masculinity.

I recoiled a small step.

‘Miss, I’m sorry about earlier. You’re right, I was very rude.’

I refused to acknowledge him; I pretended not to have heard anything.

‘If you’d give me a second’ – he must have realised that I wasn’t going to respond – ‘I’d like to explain why.’

Just then, a bartender spared me from having to reply to the imbecile. Blond with green eyes, he looked quite Nordic. A warm grin decorated his mouth when our eyes locked.

‘What can I get you, Miss?’

Judging by his strong accent, I thought he might be Swedish.

I smiled back. ‘An espresso martini and a gin and tonic, please, thank you.’

Nodding, he extended to me the payment terminal he had just typed into. I was just about to grab it when Mr Arsehole beat me to it. Snatching it away from me, he inserted his own card.

‘No!’ I objected and stared at his large hands. Prominent veins branched across the back of them, and a few climbed a small distance along his fingers, although they stopped long before they reached his neatly trimmed nails. They were undeniably male hands, and they were a beautiful pair at that. The experienced look of them wasn’t something I would forget anytime soon. During a brief moment of weakness, I wondered what it would feel like to have them caress my naked skin.

His eyebrows arched at my harsh tone. Wearing a lopsided smile, he said, ‘Now that I’ve got your attention—’

‘You had my attention earlier, Oedipus, and you wasted it.’ I snatched back the device.

‘Oedipus?’ he echoed with a titter of amazement. ‘How astute.’

I rolled my eyes and was just about to withdraw his card when his loud sigh made me look at him.

‘If you withdraw my card,’ he said, ‘dear Philip will have to restart the whole process. Do you really mean to make his job any more difficult than it needs to be? Just because you can’t swallow your pride?’

I could hardly fathom the audacity of this man. I had never met someone quite so irritating in all my twenty-three years of life.

When I looked at the bartender, whose name I supposed was Philip, I saw a flash of humour cross his face.

‘You should have a sign on the door that warns of arsehole clientele,’ I told him.

He pressed his lips together and winked at me. Then, while looking at the pest beside me, he asked, ‘What have you done, Will?’

William chuckled. ‘Well, I acted like an arsehole, naturally.’

Philip frowned. ‘That’s unusual.’

‘Yes, she caught me at a bad moment.’

‘Then you ought to apologise to the lady.’ He jerked his head in my direction.

‘I’m trying, but she’s not letting me.’

‘Try harder.’

William faced me again. ‘Andy, my mate, has got a girlfriend. Or...he used to. They split up just today, but I expect it’s only temporary. So you’ve got the wrong end of the stick, love,’ he said. ‘I’m the nice guy. Now, unless you’d like to get in the middle of that, I reckon I did you a favour.’

I pursed my lips, despising the fact that I found his reason valid. Then again, it could be a lie. I didn’t know the man. And if it was the truth, he could still have treated us more respectfully.

‘Why should I trust what you’re saying?’ Scepticism coloured my tone.

William gestured to the payment terminal just as it started beeping. We had run out of time.

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