she said, cupping her chin in her hand and gazing back at him. “But don’t get your hopes up. Grannie can be very fickle, and her fans are legion.”
“Speaking of fans…” Marc cleared his throat. “I owe you a giant apology for the other day. I misjudged the whole market thing very badly, while you…you knew exactly what to do.”
She looked steadily back at him. “We have different job descriptions, you and I. And you were on my turf.”
“Shouldn’t you be telling me off?” asked Marc.
Alex’s eyes narrowed. “I haven’t lost my touch, believe me. You should consider yourself lucky that our paths didn’t cross yesterday. I wasn’t in the best of moods. Where were you, by the way?”
“Keeping a very low profile.”
Alex laughed. “Your version of keeping a low profile is what? Only having three women chase after you instead of three dozen?”
“You’re not jealous, are you?”
Alex snorted. “Perish the thought.” She sat back and reached for her glass, brown eyes assessing him over the rim. “Give me three guesses as to where you were hiding yesterday.”
Marc felt a shot of desire race through him. The conversation was nowhere near how he had imagined it, but then Miss Kirkwood, as he would forever think of her, was the most extraordinary ordinary woman he’d ever met.
“And if you guess correctly?” he asked playfully. “What’s my forfeit?”
“You buy my dinner.” Her eyes sparkled with the challenge.
“And if you don’t?” Marc countered.
She met his gaze and a slow, sexy smile grew. “You buy my dinner anyway.”
“Deal.” Marc reached across the table and took her hand in his. It was incredible. He felt as though they were the only ones in the room. The low thrum of conversation and the clatter of a few dozen people eating dinner faded further into the background. Distantly, he realized that this was what he had wanted. To spend time with a woman who cared about him as much as he cared for her. Marc tightened his grip on her hand protectively.
“You’re not stalling, are you?” he teased her.
She gave him that sexy smile again and he knew he could warm himself forever in its glow.
“You had a business meeting with your producer?”
“Nope.”
“Um…you went looking for flats?”
“No, but you are getting warmer.” He tried not to stare, but he couldn’t help notice how the gold flecks in her eyes lit up when he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. Was she feeling the same adrenalin of attraction ripple through her body, he wondered? She must know how he felt; not even the best actors in the world could fake this stirring of emotions. And why would they?
“Wait, I know!” Alex retrieved her hand from his only to point her finger at him. “You went to the Imperial War Museum, no, no, let me think, not your time period…,” she frowned in concentration, “…likely within walking distance of the hotel, full of shiny red uniforms, pomp, ceremony….” She held up her hand for a high-five. “You went to the Household Cavalry Museum, didn’t you!”
“I did,” laughed Marc, slapping her hand. “It was fabulous…how did you know?”
“Head concierge of the best boutique hotel in London,” she said archly. She crossed her arms under her breasts and leaned on the table. “I saw the way you drooled over the displays of soldiers in the antique hall.”
Marc almost groaned aloud. He felt his whole body move towards Alex in one smooth motion which meant he didn’t see the waiter approach.
“Excuse me, sir,” said a bored voice. “You might want to eat your dinner first.”
Rather than hailing a cab, they strolled back to the hotel enjoying the mild evening air in companionable silence. She had no idea how stunningly beautiful she was, Marc realized, or how relaxing it was for him to be with a woman who was at ease with herself. As they approached the mews, Alex tucked her arm in his and Marc felt the heat of his longing flare
“Speaking of fans…” Marc cleared his throat. “I owe you a giant apology for the other day. I misjudged the whole market thing very badly, while you…you knew exactly what to do.”
She looked steadily back at him. “We have different job descriptions, you and I. And you were on my turf.”
“Shouldn’t you be telling me off?” asked Marc.
Alex’s eyes narrowed. “I haven’t lost my touch, believe me. You should consider yourself lucky that our paths didn’t cross yesterday. I wasn’t in the best of moods. Where were you, by the way?”
“Keeping a very low profile.”
Alex laughed. “Your version of keeping a low profile is what? Only having three women chase after you instead of three dozen?”
“You’re not jealous, are you?”
Alex snorted. “Perish the thought.” She sat back and reached for her glass, brown eyes assessing him over the rim. “Give me three guesses as to where you were hiding yesterday.”
Marc felt a shot of desire race through him. The conversation was nowhere near how he had imagined it, but then Miss Kirkwood, as he would forever think of her, was the most extraordinary ordinary woman he’d ever met.
“And if you guess correctly?” he asked playfully. “What’s my forfeit?”
“You buy my dinner.” Her eyes sparkled with the challenge.
“And if you don’t?” Marc countered.
She met his gaze and a slow, sexy smile grew. “You buy my dinner anyway.”
“Deal.” Marc reached across the table and took her hand in his. It was incredible. He felt as though they were the only ones in the room. The low thrum of conversation and the clatter of a few dozen people eating dinner faded further into the background. Distantly, he realized that this was what he had wanted. To spend time with a woman who cared about him as much as he cared for her. Marc tightened his grip on her hand protectively.
“You’re not stalling, are you?” he teased her.
She gave him that sexy smile again and he knew he could warm himself forever in its glow.
“You had a business meeting with your producer?”
“Nope.”
“Um…you went looking for flats?”
“No, but you are getting warmer.” He tried not to stare, but he couldn’t help notice how the gold flecks in her eyes lit up when he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. Was she feeling the same adrenalin of attraction ripple through her body, he wondered? She must know how he felt; not even the best actors in the world could fake this stirring of emotions. And why would they?
“Wait, I know!” Alex retrieved her hand from his only to point her finger at him. “You went to the Imperial War Museum, no, no, let me think, not your time period…,” she frowned in concentration, “…likely within walking distance of the hotel, full of shiny red uniforms, pomp, ceremony….” She held up her hand for a high-five. “You went to the Household Cavalry Museum, didn’t you!”
“I did,” laughed Marc, slapping her hand. “It was fabulous…how did you know?”
“Head concierge of the best boutique hotel in London,” she said archly. She crossed her arms under her breasts and leaned on the table. “I saw the way you drooled over the displays of soldiers in the antique hall.”
Marc almost groaned aloud. He felt his whole body move towards Alex in one smooth motion which meant he didn’t see the waiter approach.
“Excuse me, sir,” said a bored voice. “You might want to eat your dinner first.”
Rather than hailing a cab, they strolled back to the hotel enjoying the mild evening air in companionable silence. She had no idea how stunningly beautiful she was, Marc realized, or how relaxing it was for him to be with a woman who was at ease with herself. As they approached the mews, Alex tucked her arm in his and Marc felt the heat of his longing flare
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