“I don’t… I don’t think that will be a problem with Theo,” Jen mumbled.
Aria raised an eyebrow. “Really? Oh, my. Well, in that case… Would you like to take a butt plug?”
“What? No!”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, Sugartits. Now, the third and final rule is this: nothing you do during sex is bad. As long as all involved parties are wholeheartedly up for it, don’t ever let anyone make you feel bad for whatever it is you end up wanting.”
Jen let this ruminate for a minute. “Okay,” she said. “That sounds… That sounds alright.”
“Ugh, I’m so excited. I’ve been waiting for you to hurry up and fuck someone for centuries.”
“Aria,” Jen said wryly. “We’re 26.”
“Exactly. I don’t know what you’ve been fucking about at all these years. I would’ve blown up by now.”
“Can’t miss what you’ve never had,” Jen shrugged.
“Well something tells me you’re about to have it.”
Chapter Seven
Theo waited for Jennifer to arrive with an emotion he wasn’t too used to experiencing: anxiety.
After sending her home last night, he’d stayed up until the early hours planning their date. The result was something that felt entirely over the top, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. This was his chance. His one, fucking, chance. And he couldn’t quite explain it, but the memory of her falling apart beneath him… Well. Let’s just say, if he fucked this up, he didn’t think he’d ever be the same again.
“Mr Chamberlain? The car has arrived. Your guest should be up shortly.”
Folding his gloved hands together, Theo turned to nod at the young man who was shouting over the beating wings of the helicopter.
“Thanks, Tom,” he shouted back. “Please pass on my thanks to Keynes, would you?”
“Certainly, Sir.”
It felt like centuries, but eventually the heavy, grey doors that led out onto the roof were pushed open, and Jennifer stepped out onto the tarmac.
He watched as her jaw dropped at the sight of the helicopter behind him. She gawped, then turned to the young woman who had accompanied her up to the roof and shouted something that made the girl laugh.
Theo met Jen’s gaze and she began walking towards him, as though the pull he felt between them was truly drawing her in. She wore the coat and shoes he’d sent, and he saw the bottom of her white skirt swaying about her legs as she came closer. The sight of her in the clothes he’d chosen only increased the hot surge of arousal that shot through him when she smiled.
“Hi,” he called over the racket.
“Hey,” she shouted back. “You know, I’ve never actually seen a helicopter in real life before.”
“Really?” He took her by the hand and led her towards the sleek steps. “I suppose they’re not all that common, outside of military purposes. This one belongs to my best friend, Keynes.”
“You have impressive friends,” she left as he helped her up into the helicopter. The pilot handed them their headsets and Theo settled Jen into her seat, showing her all of the safety equipment.
Once she was ready, he gave the signal, and the pilot prepared to take off.
“So where are we going?” She asked.
“London.”
“Wow. Here I was expecting a trip to the local Nando’s.” She gave him a cheeky grin.
“Oh, I'm just pulling out all the stops to impress you. Once I have you in my clutches it’ll be Nando’s all the way.”
“I bet.” Her face gleeful, she gazed out of the windows, excitement beaming from her like sunlight. “I can’t believe this,” she breathed. “God, look at the city. Look at the stars.” Her eyes flitted back and forth as though she couldn’t choose which wonder to focus on.
Theo watched her as she watched the ever-changing view, his heart swelling at the smile on her lips.
She spent the helicopter ride giddily pointing out the landmarks below and asking their pilot questions over the headset while Theo spent it trying not to stare at any part of her for too long. Everything about her, from the soft, springy texture of her elegantly pinned-up mahogany hair to the nude-painted toes peeking out from her high-heels, was enough to entrance him. If he wasn’t careful, he could get lost in this woman.
But he was starting to think that wouldn’t be so bad.
It wasn’t long at all before they reached their destination. As they landed on the roof of a London hotel, Jennifer gushed her thanks to the pilot so profusely, Theo caught himself feeling mildly jealous. He pushed the sensation away with an internal eye-roll while they travelled down to the hotel’s Michelin-starred restaurant.
“Mr Chamberlain?” The hostess smiled . She was a stately-looking woman with iron-grey hair and roses in her finely-lined cheeks. “If you would follow me…”
They were led through the luxuriously appointed room to a candle-lit booth, and after a moment’s thought, Theo slid in beside Jenny onto one long, plush leather seat. She barely seemed to notice, she was so busy staring wide-eyed at the array of sparkling people eating and drinking around the room.
“Hélène has prepared the menu?” Theo murmured to the hostess.
“Yes, Sir.” She handed over the pre-prepared cards outlining their evening’s courses and wine pairings.
“Excellent. Thank you.”
With a polite nod, she turned and left them to their relative privacy.
Airy piano music played over the low murmur of conversation as Theo rested his hand over Jen’s. With a start, she focused on him, a smile spreading slowly over her face.
“How am I doing so far?” Theo murmured, tracing his thumb across the soft skin of her knuckles.
“Good,” she said. “Very, very good.”
“I hope you like the menu,” he said, holding out one of the little cards. “I know the head chef. And I told her to make sure she pulled out all the stops for dessert.”
“So you’ve figured out the way to my heart,” she laughed.
“I hope so,” he murmured under his breath. Luckily, Jen was too busy perusing the menu to notice.
He was floundering in a way he hadn’t for years now, since he was a young man trying to build a name for himself in the business. Part of him—a big part—was desperate to know this woman in every way. To have her, and perversely, to belong to her. It was a feeling he’d never experienced, and one he’d been struggling to identify since the moment she stepped into his office.
He’d spent most of the last 30 hours trying to impress this woman instead of following his usual routine of working over the weekend. Ordinarily, he’d be horrified with himself. There was a point in his past when he’d had a different woman, if not for every day of the week, then at least for every month of the year—but as his focus on his business had grown, his ability to build even the most fleeting of relationships had shrivelled up into nothingness. He’d forgotten how to give a shit, and he’d liked it.
But now? It was like he’d regressed to his teenage years. He couldn’t keep his thoughts in his head around her. And as for keeping his cock in his pants…
“You look like you’re thinking hard,” she said gently, jerking Theo out of his mental frenzy. “I can see the steam coming out of your ears.”
Despite himself, he laughed. “I’m sorry to hear that I’m so transparent.”
“I don’t mind. If you had a decent poker face it’d probably make me nervous.” Then, after a pause, she admitted, “I’m a little bit nervous anyway.”
“Why’s that?”
She waved an expansive hand to indicate their surroundings. “I know you said you’re trying to impress me. But the last time a guy tried to impress me, he cleaned up his bedroom before inviting me over. This is not exactly what I’m used to.”
“I see. Are you… Uncomfortable?”
“That’s not quite how I’d put it. More… Unprepared. Sending me clothes, taking me to London—in a helicopter, no less. This isn’t
the kind of thing that happens to girls like me.” She paused as a waiter appeared bearing wine. They were each poured a rich red, and Jennifer sipped at her glass with a look of ecstasy on her face that reminded Theo—rather inappropriately—of the last time he’d had her in his office. But he wouldn’t let himself get distracted by the ever-simmering heat between them. At least, not yet.
Leaning on his elbow, Theo studied her intently. The rich brown of her eyes shimmered in the candlelight, reflecting the flame beautifully.
“What does that mean?” He asked gently. “Girls like you?”
Obviously uncomfortable, she shrugged. He waited for her to speak, but she simply didn’t. Alright, then. Change of subject.
“You know,” he said, “I didn’t even realise who you were until earlier today.”
She arched a brow playfully. “But now you’ve uncovered my secret identity?”
“Something like that. You’re the girl Priyanka discovered, right? With the blog?”
“You got me,” she said. “I am indeed the girl with the blog.”
At that moment, a waiter arrived with the first course, serving the tiny dishes with unobtrusive murmurs of “Sir… Madame.”
After nodding his thanks, Theo returned to the matter that held his curiosity.
“I had a look this afternoon.”
She paused, a delicate fragment of sea bass halfway to her lips. “At my blog?”
“Yeah. And the Instagram account, and the Twitter account—“
“Oh, God.”
“You haven’t been active for a while.”
She slipped her food into her mouth and chewed carefully, taking her time. Then, after a few long minutes, she answered. “No. I decided that I needed to prioritise work. I didn’t want to waste this opportunity.”
“I see.” He could understand that. Prioritising work had been his tactic for years, after all—and look at all that it had gotten him. But… “Do you miss it?”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I do.”
“I was kind of surprised by the, ah, focus.”
An ironic smile curved her lips. “People always say that. I know I don’t have the tattoos or the piercings but… I suppose my musical tastes and my friendship with Aria led me to admire these alternative women—alternative women of colour, specifically, because those women are already automatically excluded from the mainstream. And for them to claim this very purposeful separation, alongside the othering that society forces on them…” She trailed off, her smile becoming rueful. “Sorry. I’m getting carried away.”
“No, no. I find it very interesting. I had noticed that you shared some images of Aria, actually. You know, I think my sister, Yen, would find this fascinating.”
“Did you say she’s studying sociology?”
“Yeah. She’s all about the intersectional thing. You know. She’s a Marxist. My mother despairs.”
Jen laughed, and he swore every soul in the place turned to look as she threw her head back, the long column of her throat exposed while her amusement rang out. She was brilliant, like sunlight through fractured glass. Every time he thought he knew her colours, she revealed a few more.
“You should keep doing what you love,” he murmured.
“Maybe I would, if I were as wealthy as you.” She smiled, but the joyous aura around her seemed to fade. Looking down at her plate, she speared a scrap of artichoke. “This food is really good. Fancy, but good.”
“Hélène will be pleased to hear that.”
She widened her eyes. “Oh, if you pass that onto her, please paraphrase. Make it sound more sophisticated. You know, work your magic. Jazz me up.”
“You don't need jazzing up,” he laughed.
“Everything needs jazzing up. That’s advertising, baby.”
They spent the rest of the meal teasing each other like they’d been doing it their whole lives. By the time they finished the meal and left for the next part of what Jen was calling the mystery tour, Theo’s stomach muscles were tight with the satisfying ache of a man who has done nothing but laugh for the past hour and a half.
“What, no helicopter?” Jen gasped in mock horror as he handed her into the back of the Rolls Royce idling outside the hotel.
“I’m afraid not. Although this journey is so short it’d probably be overkill. Evening, Holmes.”
“You dragged Holmes all the way down here?”
“Oh, no. This is his brother, John.”
“Oh. Hello!” She said brightly, waving at the shadowed figure sitting in the driver’s seat.
“Evening, Madam,” Holmes replied.
“So if that’s John,” she whispered, “What’s the other Holmes called?”
“Anthony,” he whispered back.
“Oh! That was my father’s middle name.”
“Was?”
She gave him a bland smile. “Mmm. So, where are we going?”
There’d been a lot of subject changing tonight, he’d noticed. But her happiness sparkled so bright, Theo found himself hoarding it like a dragon with gold. Another time, he’d ask the questions lying between them. But tonight he wanted to keep the smile on her face.
“Well, if you look out of your window you might be able to see it now.”
“Really?” Her head whipped round as she peered out of the window like a child. “Hmm… Is it… I’d say the London Eye, but it must be closed now.”
“Must it?” Theo asked.
She turned to face him, her disbelief clear. “Yes. You can’t be serious. Doesn’t it close at, like… Five?”
“Six. Or eight. Depends. But we have a private capsule.”
“What?”
“Very touristy, I know, but I don’t care what anyone says; the view is incredible. Have you been?”
“I haven’t,” she admitted as the car slowed to a stop. “I’ve only been to London a couple of times. Do you come often?”
“Not so much anymore. I went to university here, spent a lot of time here during my playboy years.”
“Oh, you had playboy years? I’ll have to Google that,” she said wickedly. Holmes opened her door, and she slid out onto the pavement.
Coming round the car to join her, Theo took her hand in his, a familiar spark flashing through his core at the touch. “Yep.” He cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious. “But nothing so scandalous that you’ll find it on Google.”
“Damn.” She pouted. “Could you be easier to embarrass, in future?”
“I’ll try,” he smirked, “but I can’t promise anything. Come on.”
Chapter Eight
Jen had been trying—and arguably failing—to keep her cool all night.
It was easy enough to set aside the thrill that Theo’s smile sent through her pulse as long as they were laughing, or eating, or ribbing each other. But now, as he helped her up the steps to their glass capsule, the hands he wrapped around her waist and forearm practically burned through the thick fur of her coat. And they were about to find themselves suspended above the city of London, surrounded by the star-studded velvet of the night sky. His scent filled her lungs, so achingly raw and masculine she felt almost dizzy. When she looked up to find his hypnotic eyes studying her, she missed a step.
“Careful, now,” he murmured, and his voice was as ragged as her nerves. His touch careful, he helped her up into the capsule before stepping in behind her.
The young man who had described himself as their host for the evening tried to follow, only to be cut off by Theo. She watched as the men leaned close to one another, a quiet argument ensuing without heat. After a few moments, Theo pulled out his wallet and produced a fistful of notes that quieted the host’s protests. A polite smile on his ruddy face, the guy stepped down and said only, “Enjoy your evening.” Then he shut the glass door firmly behind them.
The pod was not what she’d expected. It was larger, for a start; thirty people could fit in it comfortably, though they were alone. The centre was taken up by a low, wide bench on which sat gla
sses of champagne and a plate of truffles.
“Thirsty?” Theo asked, wandering over the the bench. He sat down beside the champagne and picked up a glass, offering it to her. Like a teenager at a party, she allowed the promise of alcohol to lure her in. Stepping closer, she took the delicate stem of the flute between her fingers and drank a sip, the bubbles dancing over her tongue.
“This is touristy,” she said, as the platform from which they’d boarded drew further and further away.
“I know.” He smiled. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” She sat down beside him and eyed the truffles speculatively. She wasn’t hungry yet, but they looked good. Would it be scandalously common to slip a few into her purse?
But she was being ridiculous, worrying about truffles when the Thames glittered beneath her like a snake’s skin. Standing, Jennifer walked towards the glass and stared out across the city’s landmarks.
Moments later, she heard Theo’s footsteps as he walked up behind her. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the sharp anticipation of his nearness. Then his hands settled on her shoulders and he leaned in close, his lips grazing against the sensitive shell of her ear. “Shall I take your coat?” He murmured.
“Please.” She manoeuvred her champagne as he eased the heavy garment from her shoulders; then he took the glass from her and put it down alongside her coat. Within moments, he was back, the heat of him seeping into her bones as he stood by her with his hand resting firmly against her hip.
“You like the view?”
“I do. I thought the helicopter was amazing but this… It’s different. Tranquil. It’s like we’re seeing a different city entirely, somehow.”
“I know what you mean.”
She looked up at him just as he looked down at her, and they both froze, their faces inches apart. Her mouth suddenly dry, Jennifer breathed in his air, drank down the heady nectar of his attention. The look in his dark eyes—the way that infamous, laser focus of his zeroed in on her—heated her blood.
“So what do you think, Jenny? Have I earned a shot?”
“Maybe.”
“Just maybe?” “His voice was achingly soft, silky.
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