Desk Job (London Menage Book 2) by Lily Harlem Page A

pleasant. I only hoped the night would be too. I shifted from one foot to the other, but was I jumping into bed too quickly with Andre, if that was in fact what happened later?
    Maybe.
    Perhaps.
    Probably.
    But what the hell? I was single. He was single. We fancied the pants off each other. Life was short. Too short not to take a chance, grab some fun, get some satisfaction when it walked on by.
    “Hey. Stella.”
    I turned to my right.
    Andre stood there, looking more handsome in his black suit than any other man who’d entered the theater. His hair appeared damp, as though he’d not long ago showered. He was perfectly clean-shaven and wore a deep purple tie.
    “Am I late?” He frowned and glanced at his watch.
    “Not at all. I was early.”
    “I didn’t mean to make you wait.” His frown was still in place.
    “I was quite happy people watching.”
    “Ah, yes.” His expression softened. “Getting inspiration for those poems of yours.”
    “Something like that.”
    He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek.
    I inhaled his cologne and let the scent drift down into my lungs, lacing the back of my tongue as it did so.
    “You look beautiful,” he said quietly against my ear.
    “Thank you.”
    He pulled back. “And I’m a lucky guy to have you on my arm.” He held out the crook of his elbow. “Shall we?”
    “Yes, please. I’m looking forward to it.”
    The show was amazing. I became lost in the music, the dance, the characters and the story. It was a feast for my senses and made all the more special by the fact Andre was beside me. When it came to an end, I was surprised how the time had flown.
    “I could watch it all over again,” I said to Andre as the final rounds of applause died down.
    “You enjoyed it then?”
    “I completely loved it. Everything about it.”
    “I’m glad.” He stood and held out his hand. “Shall we get a nightcap?”
    I set my fingers in his palm and watched as he closed his hand around mine. Did I want a nightcap? Hell yeah. In fact, I wanted that and more. “That sounds perfect.” I stood and found myself pressed close to him in the narrow aisle.
    “Shall we find a bar or would you like to come back to my place?” he asked.
    Fuck. That was the million-pound question.
    I looked into his eyes, they sparkled and held a glint of hope.
    “I guess we’re not far from Chelsea.” That wasn’t quite true but I didn’t think he’d quibble. “Your place sounds good to me.”
    His mouth twitched into a smile. “It sounds good to me, too.”
    The crowd opened up and still holding my hand, he led me down the steps and out of the theater. The throng of people soon dispersed and Andre hailed a taxi.
    My ears rung from the loud music as I climbed inside and buckled up. I also felt cool. I shook out my wrap only to find Andre taking it from me. He spread it wide then carefully placed it around my shoulders being sure to drape it evenly and gather it at the front, over my chest.
    “Thank you.”
    He said nothing, just looked at me intently.
    “Everything okay?” I asked.
    “Never better.” He adjusted his position on the seat then clipped his seatbelt secure. Once again, he took hold of my hand.
    I bit down on my bottom lip. This was the big step I’d been expecting, going back to his place held endless possibilities. Most were fun, sexy and I hoped, thoroughly satisfying, but still, it was a huge step to jump into bed with my boss.
    But this man, at my side, holding my hand. He wasn’t just my boss. It was Andre, sweet, caring, sexy Andre. It would all be fine. More than fine. We would be amazing together and just maybe, hopefully, exactly what each other had been searching for.
    We began our journey to Chelsea. The streets were busy with public transport, smart cars and black cabs.
    “How long have you lived in your place?” I asked.
    “For three years. I bought it when Emma and I split.”
    “Oh, I see.” Of course, the ex-wife, Emma.
    “We had a home in