I shouldn’t be doing this.’
Before she could protest that it was OK, that she was there all the way with him, he restored order to her clothes and gently moved her off his lap.
‘This wasn’t…Fran, I don’t do relationships. And I respect you too much to sleep with you and push you out of my life.’
Respect. What was it about her that made men want to respect her, be her friend, instead of seducing her? Most of the time it didn’t bother her.
Right now, it did.
Especially because it would be all too obvious how aroused she was.
The only thing she could salvage from this was pride. So she made the effort to sound like the cool, efficient office manager she was supposed to be. This girlfriend business was just for show and what had just happened between them was—well, they’d both been under pressure. ‘No worries. We’ll just pretend it never happened.’
‘Thank you.’ He stood up. ‘I, um—see you tomorrow.’
She nodded. ‘And bring your credit card.’
‘Credit card?’
‘Your sisters’ birthday presents. We’re going shopping in my lunch hour.’
And the minute he left, she was going to take a very, very cold shower. Get her brain and her body back to normal.
Shopping? More like a military operation, Gio thought when Fran marched him into the third shop in Oxford Street. ‘What did you do—scope things out on the net first?’
She gave him a sidelong look. ‘Don’t tell me you’d rather spend hours wandering around, not really sure what you want or where to find it?’
‘Well, no,’ he admitted. ‘But I don’t understand how you knew the perfect presents to get for my sisters when you’ve only just met them.’
‘It’s called looking at people. Noticing things,’ Fran said. ‘Jude likes really understated jewellery. Very classic, very pretty. Her wedding ring’s white gold and her watch is chrome, so yellow gold earrings wouldn’t really be her style. The white gold ones with pink sapphires are more the kind of thing she’d like.’
Hmm. Fran didn’t wear jewellery. Didn’t have pierced ears. Would she…?
No. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about jewellery and Francesca Marsden. The fact he’d love to see her wearing nothing but a string of pearls and a sexy smile.
Kissing her yesterday had been a big mistake. Because he wanted to do it all over again. And this time not stop touching her until they were both naked.
And sated.
As if oblivious to what was going through his head, Fran continued, ‘Marcie, on the other hand, loves jewellery that makes a statement. She wears silver bangles set with big chunky stones. That triangular pendant set with a turquoise is the sort of thing she’d choose.’
‘And Bella?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t you listen to anyone unless it’s about work?’
Ouch. That was definitely below the belt.
‘Angela told us in the Chinese restaurant that Bella’s a handbag fiend. Here.’ She looked quickly through the display, picked out an evening bag and handed it to Gio. ‘She goes out a lot in the evening, so a bag that’s big enough to take her phone, credit card, keys and a coin purse is perfect. And this particular designer does seriously cute bags.’
‘That little Scottie dog on the front looks just like her new puppy. She probably showed you the latest pictures yesterday.’ Gio shook his head in amazement. ‘See, this is why I needed you with me. You understand girl stuff. I’d never have thought of this.’
‘Don’t flannel me. You normally text them at the last minute and ask them for a list of ideas and exactly where to buy them, don’t you?’ she asked.
Was he that predictable? Or was she just really, really good at reading people? But he loved the way she teased him. ‘It means they get what they really want. But this year, I wanted it to be different. So I told them all I was going to get them a surprise.’
‘And if I’d refused to come and help you?’
‘Then I’d have given them vouchers for a pamper day at their favourite spa,’ he admitted. ‘But I prefer giving presents to unwrap. Ones that people really like.’
‘So all you have to do is notice the details.’
‘I do notice details,’ he protested as he paid for the bag. ‘And because we did all the shopping in about three minutes flat, we have time for lunch.’
Though what he wanted for lunch definitely wasn’t on the menu.
She pantomimed horror. ‘Tut, tut. Should we not be heading to a branch of Giovanni’s?’
‘The nearest one’s at Charlotte Street. Which means I’d feel forced to go back to the office—and aren’t you joining my family’s campaign to make me take more time off?’
She laughed, but let him lead her into a nearby café.
‘I meant it about noticing details,’ Gio said when he brought their tray to their table.
‘Such as?’
‘You, for example.’The way her mouth was so full and lush and sexy when she’d just been kissed. Not that he was stupid enough to say that out loud. ‘Your eyes are the most beautiful colour—the same as the sky at about ten o’clock on an August evening.’
‘Flannel.’ She looked away.
‘Fran?’ He reached over and squeezed her hand. ‘I apologise for embarrassing you.’
‘I’m not embarrassed.’
The bright pink of her cheeks said otherwise. ‘I’ll take it away from the personal, then,’ he said softly ‘The only jewellery you wear is a watch, and it’s precisely eight minutes fast—which I’d guess is the amount of time it would take to sort out a voiceover studio between slots.’
‘Well deduced, Holmes.’
‘Why, thank you, Watson,’ he teased back.
But he managed to keep the conversation light and impersonal, and didn’t try to persuade her to take a longer lunch break when she said it was time to go back to work.
On Wednesday morning, just as Gio was about to leave his flat, his mobile phone rang.
He checked the display before answering: the Holborn branch. ‘Hi, Amy. What’s up?’
‘You know I was having problems with the steam wand the other day, and you sorted it out? It’s gone funny again. I’m trying to get it to work, but could you pop in on your way to Charlotte Street?’
‘Yeah, sure. I’ll get Sal to open up here. Be with you in a few minutes.’
By the time he’d got to Holborn, the steam wand was working perfectly again.
‘I feel really guilty, dragging you out here over nothing,’ Amy said. ‘But as you’re here, I was wondering if we could have a chat about something? There’s a writers’ group who’d like to meet here on Wednesday evenings and they asked me if we could open late. I know we don’t normally do evenings, but I’ve got a business plan. It’ll only take me ten minutes to talk you through…’
More like half an hour, but Gio knew the Charlotte Street branch was safe in Sally’s hands—not to mention Fran being in the office if there was a problem elsewhere.
He didn’t think anything of it until he was walking down Charlotte Street and noticed something odd about the exterior of the café.
Red balloons tied to the door, he saw as he got nearer.
Balloons