Page 21 of Only for Christmas

Her brain struggled to compute the array of conflicting thoughts whizzing around her head. She didn’t know this man. He could be an abuser. Then again, he’d rescued her from Stephen. They were standing on a main road. How much danger was she really in?

‘Just a friendly hug,’ he said, as if reading her mind. ‘Nothing more. Playing for the crowd.’

She kept her eyes away from the window. ‘Are they still watching?’

He glanced over. ‘Yep, still watching.’

She swallowed awkwardly. ‘Okay, then.’

‘Okay?’ He waited until she’d nodded her consent before stepping closer and sliding his arms around her.

He smelt of beer and that same woody scent he was wearing the other night, which must contain some sort of illegal aphrodisiac, because the smell seemed to be doing strange things to her insides. She felt boneless and had temporarily lost the ability to speak. She had no idea whether she was shaking from shock, fear or the cold. A tiny voice in her head alerted her to another reason, but she quickly dismissed it: the idea that she fancied Lucas Moore was ludicrous.

His hands rested gently on her back. ‘You’ve gone quiet on me. You okay?’

Was she okay? She had no idea. She was standing on a busy street being hugged by a man she hardly knew. It was surreal, to say the least. It was also impossible to focus when she could feel his firm chest, the tickle of his stubble and the power in his arms. She needed her barriers back in place. And quick. ‘You can let go of me now.’

He stepped away, and a draught of cold air immediately hit her, coupled with a strange sense of disappointment. She reasoned it was nostalgia. It had been a long time since anyone had held her, even if the brief moment of pleasure had now evaporated, leaving her wistful and shivering.

He zipped up his jacket, and then held out her coat for her. He was a gentleman, she’d give him that.

Turning around so she could slide her arms into her coat meant she was facing the wine bar window and could see her work colleagues staring at her open-mouthed.

Oh, heavens. The gossips would love this.

When she turned to face Lucas again, he had his hand outstretched. ‘One last piece of theatrics. I’ll let go as soon as we’re out of sight.’

Sighing, she slipped her hand into his, not because she didn’t want to, but rather alarmingly, because she did. ‘This is turning into a very strange evening.’

‘Tell me about it.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘And maybe try smiling? You looked kind of freaked out. Like I’m trying to kidnap you.’

‘Oh.’ She pulled her lips into a tight line. ‘Better?’

He laughed. ‘Been a while, huh? Come on, showtime’s over.’

Hand in hand, they walked off down the street, just like any other couple out on a date. Except this felt really weird. Although perhaps not as weird as it should do. A feeling exacerbated by the warmth of his hand, firm grip and the soft feel of his skin.

‘How come you have such soft hands?’ she asked, without thinking. Those few sips of wine had loosened her tongue. Fancy asking such a question. What was she thinking?

‘I moisturise,’ he said, his thumb trailing over her skin and making her forget her own name. ‘I’m a modern man.’

Needing a distraction, before she did something crazy, like lift his hand to her lips so she could breathe in his scent, she glanced back at the wine bar, only to see Georgia’s shocked expression pressed against the glass. Her friend grinned and then gave a double thumbs-up before snogging the window.

Boy, this was going to take some explaining on Monday.

The temperature had dropped another few degrees and ice was beginning to form on the shop windows. The Christmas lights sparkled away and it suddenly felt very intimate to be holding this man’s hand while walking along the frosty pavements towards Putney Bridge. She needed to be careful. A lesser woman might be fooled into having romantic thoughts, and that needed to be avoided at all costs. Her heart couldn’t take it.

‘Was that the first time Stephen’s made a play for you?’ Lucas asked as they crossed the road.

‘I wouldn’t call it a play,’ she said, sliding her hand from his. They were out of sight now; there was no need to continue holding his hand.

‘Trust me, it was a play. That man likes getting his own way.’

She’d arrived at the same conclusion. Although clearly Stephen had been drinking, so maybe that was a factor. Alcohol often made people act inappropriately. After all, look at her. Hadn’t she commented on Lucas’s soft hands? ‘Hopefully he’ll stop now. You know, now he thinks we’re an item.’

Lucas gave a shrug. ‘Maybe.’

They reached Putney Bridge, the soft glow from the lanterns misting against the lowering fog. It was a beautifully eerie sight. ‘I’ll leave it a couple of days and then tell people we broke up.’

---