“Friend?” I challenge. I’m trying to be brave and counter his question. It’s not working. His obvious query removes the smile from my face, and I look nervously at my hands, which are now gripped together. I reach to tuck my hair behind my ear and tug gently at the nape, feeling the skin lift and pinch as I do.
“I’m twenty-five,” I venture boldly, more bold than I’m feeling at any rate. “Yes, twenty-five. I’m twenty-five.” Smooth, Bets, really smooth. I risk a glance up toward his face. His dark eyes crinkle as his grin transforms to a full on, breath-taking smile. He is possibly the most stunning man I have ever seen, and he can’t be the most important man in the room, yet I feel the power and command like a force holding me rooted to the spot.
“Really?” He leans in further and I can feel his breath on my neck. I feel my face flush instantly. I must be seven shades of red right now, and I know my heart is pumping so hard, it might just succeed in escaping my chest via my ribcage. I try to swallow but manage only to make a whimper leave my dry throat. I lick my parched lips and notice his eyes fix on the slight movement. Christ, Bets! Get a grip. You’ll be swishing your hair and swooning any minute now. He lifts my hair away from my neck, an impossibly intimate gesture, which does nothing to quell the raging heat building between my legs. I am only thankful that Mr. Wilson seems to be distracted from this very intense exchange.
“Interesting, Miss Thorne, now why are you lying?” His voice is rich and luxurious like velvet caressing my skin.
Shit! I don’t say this out loud, but I’m screaming it to myself, and I make a sharp intake of breath, which has drawn Mr. Wilson’s attention back to me. I try to take a step back and notice a number of eyes focused on our little exchange, just what I need. So much for staying under the radar, and it doesn’t help that Mr. Stone has neatly mirrored my retreat keeping the intimate distance between us.
“I’m not, I mean, I don’t know what you mean…” I fumble quietly hoping Mr. Wilson is catching none of this.
“Oh Miss Thorne, you most definitely are, but what puzzles me is why? But I do love a good puzzle.” His tone is pure temptation.
“Well.” I recover. “This has been delightful and as charming as you are…” I leave the statement unfinished as I turn my back, effectively blanking Mr. Stone and take hold of Mr. Wilson’s hand. He looks a little confused, and I’m thinking,join the club!
“Thank you, Mr. Wilson, so much for this opportunity, I really am so grateful, Sir.”
“Bethany, there is no need for ‘Sir’, please. I don’t mind if you call me Jack.”
“I’ll be more comfortable with Mr. Wilson, Mr. Wilson.” I smile.
“And I would be more comfortable with Sir.” I freeze as his hands grasp my shoulders and his lips are again brushing my ear. I pray to God no one else can hear, because they can sure as shit see my face flame once more. “In fact… I insist.” He gives a gentle laugh. I shift slightly to try and ease the pressure in my groin.
“I have to get to work. My shift starts soon!” I rush to announce it, as if this revelation will save me from this excruciating encounter. It’s not a lie, but I could have stayed a little longer if I wanted; I don’t. I step away and feel the sudden loss of heat. I have to lean awkwardly around an immovable Daniel Stone to place my coffee cup down. Only when I am safely on the other side do I release the breath I had been holding. I risk a look back into the room through the small window in the door. There are several groups of people now, but undoubtedly most eyes are fixed on the mountain of a man next to Mr. Wilson. His eyes are,however, undeniably fixed on me.
“So?” Sofia leaves a long dramatic pause. “How was your first day? Did you make any friends? Did the other children play nice?” She is carrying a bottle of white wine and two glasses from downstairs and flops into the armchair opposite me. I am curled up in a ball wrapped head to toe in a blankie.
“Pour first.” I instruct, pointing at the empty glasses.
“It couldn’t have been that bad; you didn’t even have any lectures, did you?” She passes me a very full glass.
“Urghhh.” I take a large gulp, this is not going to touch the sides. “I think I’ve been rumbled.”
Sofia laughs then stops. “You’re serious? How?”
“Some guy at the gathering, a ‘Friend of the University’ they’ve roped into giving some free lectures, flat out told me I was lying in front of my course leader.”
“What? Oh my God, Bets. What did you do? What did Mr. What’s-His-Name say?”
“Mr. Wilson, well, he didn’t say anything, he didn’t actually hear, this guy whispered it in my ear.” I get a shiver as I say this, like I can still feel his breath skim my skin. I can feel my face heat, and I quickly down the rest of my glass.
“Oh my… Miss Thorne, I do believe you’re blushing.” She giggles.
“I know! What is that about? Some random hot guy whispers in my ear and I light up like a red light district. They all swear like sailors in the kitchen, and the topics they share, well, it’s no holds barred most of the time and not a hint of colour!” I am just as shocked.
“Hot guy?” She hums with excitement.
“Oh yes.” I swallow. “Did I not mention that he was off the charts, hot as hell? And he knows, I don’t know what he knows, but he knows I’m lying.” I’m frowning now and waving to get more wine. Sofia leans forward and tops up my glass. I take a smaller sip this time. “Oh God, I can’t lose this place, Sofs.” I drop my head in my one free hand.
“Random guy, you say, so he is not on the staff?” She muses.
“No.” I like where she’s going with her thinking.
“And you didn’t confirm he was right?”
“No.”
“And your Mr. What’s-His-Name didn’t hear?” Her lips begin to curl in a reassuring way.