Charlotte Phillips – All Bets Are On (страница 9)
‘Not exactly,’ she said, knowing he was watching her. ‘I’ll admit things may have got a bit one-sided.’ She shrugged. ‘Let’s just say it’s very easy to get used to nights in all the time. No pressure. No need to think about pleasing anyone else.’
And no worries about being hurt by anyone.
‘And you get all the validation you want from achievements at work?’
‘Exactly!’ She looked up at him with a smile, pleased that he understood where she was coming from.
‘Being successful doesn’t have to come at the expense of a good time,’ he said.
Well, of course, he would think that, wouldn’t he?
‘Spoken like an expert,’ she said.
As they walked she began to find the city pace that was so ingrained being pushed back into a stroll by the surroundings. She took her jacket off and slung it over her arm. The lake came into view surrounded by trees and she could see pale blue wooden rowing boats out on the water along with ducks and geese. Only the occasional glimpse of buildings peeking through the trees belied the fact that this place was in the middle of the city. Tension in her shoulders, which was so perpetual she hadn’t known it was there, slipped an unexpected notch.
They passed the empty bandstand and headed for a café, the grey-green wooden boat house next to the lake. Sunshine sparkled off the water.
She stood behind him as he bought coffees, trying not to notice the way he turned female heads. It was his height and broad shoulders that drew your first glance but the darkly handsome face that made you look twice. She was acutely aware of the interested and envious glances thrown her way as he turned to her, a takeaway coffee in each hand.
‘Shall I grab a table?’ she asked, scanning the terrace for a space.
He took a sip of his coffee and grinned at her.
‘I’ve got a better idea.’
She looked up at him, squinting a little against the sunlight.
‘What?’
Trepidation spiked a little as she wondered what the hell he might be suggesting. Finding a quiet spot among the trees for al-fresco sex maybe? Nothing would surprise her. She deliberately avoided taking his proffered hand, and followed him across the terrace and down the decking to the edge of the lake. As he took out his wallet and approached the attendant the penny finally dropped.
Not al-fresco sex, thank goodness, but still well outside her comfort zone.
She stopped in her tracks.
‘You’re hiring a rowing boat?’
She could hear the incredulity in her own voice.
He turned back to her, grinning.
‘Yep.’
Despite her attempts to avoid him he grabbed her hand and tugged her gently along the decking towards the row of light blue wooden rowing boats.
She shook her head and tried to dig her heels into the decking, failing miserably in her ballet flats.
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