Page 43 of The Puck Stops Here

‘It’s my uncle’s.’

‘Is he home?’

‘No. He splits most of his time between Barbados and the UK.’

‘Lucky man. Any chance you’re going to invite me in for a nightcap?’

‘If I thought you were asking for just a drink, maybe.’

‘Who says I’m not?’

‘Your eyes.’

He flashed a dimple with a lopsided grin. ‘I can see I’m going to have to watch what they do around you.’

She laughed. ‘You’re incorrigible.’

‘So they say.’

‘Goodnight, Fury.’ She turned to walk away and paused, looking back over her shoulder. Could she ask him? Dare she?

‘Blake…?’

His eyes lit up. ‘Yes?’

‘What did you mean, earlier?’

He frowned. ‘Earlier? You’ll have to be a little more specific.’

‘When you said you were onto me. What did you mean?’

He paused for a beat and she held her breath. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked him. Maybe she should’ve let it go and hoped that he would too. Maybe?—

‘I meant…’

He stepped forward, the devilish glint in his gaze stealing all thought, save one –you definitely shouldn’t have asked!

‘…you dress like you’re all about business – the hair, the suit, the shoes.’

His gaze swept over her, more effective than any central heating.

‘But really, you’re all about the fire. The fire, the fun, and the?—’

‘If you say fornication…’

He chuckled low and slow. ‘That too.’

She shook her head, suppressed a dizzied laugh of her own. ‘You don’t know me.’

‘No. And you don’t know me either. But I’m enjoying unravelling the mystery of you.’

‘There’s no mystery,’ she was quick to say. Too quick.

‘I’ll be the judge of that. Goodnight, Twinkle Toes.’ He leaned in and swept a kiss to her cheek, his stubble tantalisingly rough. ‘Sweet dreams.’

And then he was gone, leaving her on a cloud of his aftershave and pheromones… and God, did she justsigh?

She shook her head and stomped into the foyer, stomped into the lift, stomped into her uncle’s apartment, right up to her bed and face planted.