Girl Most Likely To

by Barbara Elsborg

  “Lunch? Okay.” She was amazed she could speak.

  “Want to go to the café? Or is there a pub or restaurant around here?”

  “There’s a pub round the corner.”

  “Perfect. Lead the way.”

  Oh. My. God. She never thought she’d see him again. After she’d stopped wanting to, she changed to wishing she’d never met him in the first place. He was The Big Mistake. Now he was here. Incredible.

  “I didn’t hurt you did I?” he asked.

  Her heart floundered. A bit late to ask that. She had been hurt, but not physically. Just months of—

  “I must have pushed, just as you pulled,” he said.

  Ah, the door. “No, I’m okay.”

  “What do you teach?” he asked as they walked outside.

  “English and Italian.”

  “I remember you said you were learning Italian. I think that was the only thing you told me. We—er—didn’t talk much.”

  They’d done all their communicating with their hands and mouths.

  Adam seemed different to the impassioned guy of five years ago. But then they’d been caught up in the charged atmosphere of that night, drunk on the sights, sounds, scents and emotions of the masked players swirling around them, and even more intoxicated with each other. Depending how far revelers were prepared to go, Carnivale in Venice was a decadent affair, two weeks of nonstop partying. One night in Wren’s case. Less than one night. A couple of hours. Unforgettable hours.

  “You haven’t changed,” he said quietly. “You’re just as I remember. Same haircut. Same smile. As beautiful today as you were then.”

  Jaw. Floor. Smash. “I seem to recall we both looked like drowned rats.” She was not going to fall for flattery. Probably.

  “The most gorgeous drowned rat I’ve ever seen.”

  Oh wow. “This is the pub.” She pushed open the door and he followed.

  “What can I get you?” he asked.

  “Half a bitter shandy and a cheese sandwich, please.”

  “Grab a table.” He took a few steps and then came back. “Don’t disappear again, not now I’ve found you.”

  She needed to sit before she fell. She found an empty table tucked away behind a pillar and then winced when her backside hit the chair. Gorgeous? Beautiful? Compliments always made her uneasy. No one had ever told her she was beautiful, apart from her mum and dad and they didn’t count. Of course, she wasn’t beautiful, he didn’t mean it, but it had given her a warm feeling when she’d heard the words.

  Adam, on the other hand, was breathtakingly handsome. He had been then and he still was. She’d taken shelter from the rain in a dark doorway in a Venetian campiello and found it already occupied. After the wet stranger moved over to make room, they’d started to chat about the carnival and the costumes while they waited for the rain to ease. Wren admitted that being surrounded by people wearing masks had started to freak her out, she had a phobia about having her face covered, and he’d offered to walk her back to where she was staying. Why hadn’t she told him where that was? A fear maybe that she was asking for trouble? Because she wanted to prolong the encounter?

  When the rain showed no sign of stopping, they’d run hand in hand, gone in circles, and she hadn’t cared. Her fingers were secure in his and he made her heart thump. After she finally admitted she was lost, he’d looked into her eyes, lowered his head and kissed her.

  It remained the best kiss she’d ever had. He’d started slow and tasted every part of her mouth as if she were an epicurean feast. His hands snaked around her back and he pulled her against him, his cock growing hard between them, and they’d kissed and kissed and kissed—long and slow, fast and furious—until they were soaked to the skin and welded to each other along their lengths.

  Everything her mother had said to her before she left for her year in Italy evaporated in a flash. All her father’s warnings about being careful of strangers sank out of sight, her brothers’ advice about what guys really wanted forgotten in an instant. Wren’s common sense had been ground to dust in those moments of irresistible, irreversible lust. She’d never felt more excited, more wanted, more alive.

  And later, never more crushingly disappointed.

  But gradually, she regained her equilibrium and saw the incident for what it was. The Big Mistake. One she would never repeat.

  But then she hadn’t thought she’d see him again.

  Adam stood at the far end of the bar with his back to Wren, taking deep breaths, trying to get his body under control. His heart hammered against his ribs, thoughts swirled like mini tornadoes in his head and his cock swelled uncomfortably against his zipper. He still couldn’t believe it was her. Fuck it, how many times did I say that? She’d think he was an idiot.

  Five years ago, after they’d become separated by the crowds, he’d wandered for hours, wet and shivering, but with no idea where she was staying it was hopeless. Even so, he only gave up the search when dawn broke because he had a flight to catch. As he sat on the plane, he’d tortured himself with visions of her being attacked, murdered and dumped in a canal even when logic told him she’d gone back to her place, showered and fallen into bed thinking he was an asshole.

  But he’d always wondered. He’d even checked the internet for a few weeks just in case, knowing he’d never forgive himself if she turned up dead.

  Now, here she was. Very much alive.

  Adam caught the barmaid’s attention and ordered the drinks and sandwiches, his mind quickly slipping back to that night.

  One kiss in the pouring rain and every cell in his body had vibrated with need. They’d been soaked, her nipples standing out against the thin material of a dress that clung to every curve and dip of her body. She might as well have been naked. By chance, they’d stumbled into a little garden, and in the shadows he’d pressed her up against a rough brick wall and dropped his mouth to her breast. As the noise of the revelers faded, his head fogged with her breathy cries and he’d slid trembling fingers up her leg, under her dress and inside her panties. She’d been so hot and wet, he’d almost come from touching her.

  Adam swallowed hard and paid the barmaid, who gave him a curious look as she loaded the glasses onto a tray. He hoped she didn’t hurry with the sandwiches because he needed to pull himself together. Twice in two days he’d been rocked by his reaction to another person. It was almost as if he needed to be away from Ally and Caspar before he could get on with his life. Had Ally somehow understood that? He gulped at the thought of the pair knowing how he felt about them.

  That night, he’d rubbed Wren’s clit while she clung to him and she’d come in an instant, shuddering against him. As he’d kissed her, she’d released breathy cries into his mouth and Adam’s mind had been lost to everything but getting his cock inside her. He’d known the moment he pushed and felt unexpected resistance that she hadn’t done this before. Instead of doing the right thing and backing off, giving common sense and decency a chance to kick in, he’d sunk his cock all the way into her, thrilled he was the first to feel her tightness, her sweetness, her warmth.

  Neither of them had spoken again. She’d hung to him, urged him on with her body, and he’d fucked her where they stood. He made her come again and caught her scream in his mouth before he’d exploded with an intensity that sent sparks of pleasure strafing his mind. More kisses were exchanged and clothing put to rights as they stared knowingly into each other’s eyes, and he was sure—had been sure—they’d go back his hotel or her place. They emerged into the street hand in hand only to be snatched apart within seconds by crowds of drunken revelers.

  In an instant they’d lost each other. While he searched, he had time to absorb the enormity of what he’d done. He felt like a monster for taking her virginity with unprotected sex. When there were no reports of a dead woman found in a Venice canal, he replaced one concern with another. What if he’d gotten her pregnant? The thought had occasionally reared its head over the years, usually when he was feeling sorry for h
imself. Now it was the foremost question bubbling in his mind.

  Taking a deep breath, he returned to the table with their meal. He put his laptop bag on the floor and his coat over the chair back.

  “Thanks.” Wren took a sip of her drink.

  Christ, she looks embarrassed. He swallowed hard. “We didn’t get a chance to talk five years ago.” We were too busy fucking. “I need…to apologize. I was stupid, thoughtless, careless.” So deep in lust it was a wonder he hadn’t stripped her naked where she stood. He rubbed his damp palms on his thighs. “I’d never…I should have…” Fuck it. He could handle speaking to a roomful of antagonistic shareholders and not one wide-eyed female?

  Adam took a swig of beer to wet his dry mouth and she whispered, “When would you like to meet the triplets?”

  The result wasn’t pretty. Most of the beer went back into his glass, the rest he wiped from his chin.

  “I called them Harry, Ron and Hermione.”

  It took a moment for his befuddled brain to get it and then he huffed a chuckle of relief.

  Wren smiled. “I went on the Pill before I left for Italy, just in case. Not that I—well, you turned out to be my ‘in case’.” She gulped. “Though I didn’t know if you were…the type of guy who usually…” She chewed her lip as her smile slid away.

  Oh Christ. He leaned forward. “I’d never had sex without a condom before. I haven’t since.” His hand tightened on his glass. “I’m really sorry.”

  “I got checked, just in case. Three months of…anxiety. Some…things don’t show for six months, but I figured after three I was okay.”

  Oh my God. He hadn’t even thought about going to a clinic. He’d assumed because she hadn’t had sex before—fuck.

  “I am so sorry,” he said quietly. “I don’t think I can say that enough times. I’ve no right to ask for forgiveness…” His voice trailed off. “You think you could?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. I didn’t say stop. I wanted you as much as you wanted me. Neither of us was thinking straight. It was the most exciting night of my life.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I didn’t want it to end.”

  His lungs locked. Did that mean she wanted to try again?

  “But when it did, I…” She sighed. “We got carried away. The music, the dancing. I swear the air tasted different that night. Maybe it was better we parted. Could be the crowd knew something we didn’t, that it meant more in our lives as a moment snatched and there was no future in it.”

  Adam wanted to reach for her hand and instead picked up his sandwich. Was she saying no, then? His cock wasn’t listening but his brain was telling him—you’re here for three weeks, then you’re back in London. Going to fuck her and walk away again? Is that what Tomas had been thinking yesterday? That starting something that could go nowhere was a mistake?

  He was racing well ahead of himself. Just because she hadn’t had triplets with him—and for one crazy moment when she’d said the word triplets, he’d felt his world expand—it didn’t mean she hadn’t had kids with someone else.

  No ring on her finger, but still…

  “What brings you to Ezispeke?” she asked.

  “I’m having a few weeks off work. I’m not good at relaxing so this is a sort of holiday.”

  Adam was not going to tell Wren what Ally had signed him up to study because the moment he got back to the school, he was going to switch courses from Russian to Italian. Though the answer to his next question might make that a bad idea.

  “Are you married, engaged or otherwise taken?” He cursed the croak in his voice.

  “No, no and no.” She met his gaze. “Are you?”

  If she’d said yes, maybe it would have been easier, but Adam could feel his cock preening. He could almost hear it purr. How could someone as cute as her not have a boyfriend? With that pixie-cut hair and big brown eyes, she—why is she staring at me? Fuck. She’d asked him a question.

  “No,” he blurted. “Unless you count being married to my business, which takes up far too much of my time.”

  Adam heard Caspar’s response in his head. Because you let it. And the guy was right. Adam had worked hard to build his company. He’d sacrificed his social life to make money because that was what he’d learned from his parents. He should have known better. Without someone to share his success, the effort seemed pointless. Adam wanted someone who belonged to him, someone he could belong to. He wanted what Caspar and Ally had.

  Maybe Wren was the one. Fate, coincidence, or pure dumb luck had brought them together twice and this time, he wouldn’t let her slip through his fingers. Maybe he shouldn’t have let Tomas slip through his fingers either. He should have spoken to the dumbass after he’d lurched away, found out what was the matter. At least he’d know.

  An image of Tomas and Wren in bed with him almost had him spitting out another mouthful of beer. Wren pulled the crust off her sandwich and played with it but didn’t eat anything. Was he making her uncomfortable?

  “What do you do?” she asked.

  “I’m in the antifraud business. I mainly work on the IT side, but the company handles all sorts of solutions to fraudulent activity. Areas like disruption and target hardening.”

  She gave him a blank stare.

  “Sorry. I give advice on fraud management, corporate governance, the tracking of online criminal activity—Christ, I’m boring you.”

  I babble when I’m nervous? Fuck it, I’m never nervous.

  “You’re not boring me. What does target hardening mean?” She grinned and his cock made a break for freedom.

  He let out a strangled laugh as he shifted his chair closer to the table to hide the tent in his pants. “It’s basically advice on how to make a potential target harder to attack or break open. Like making a building more secure.”

  “Easy. I have the perfect solution. Get rid of all doors and windows.”

  He chuckled. “Genius. Need a job?”

  “Funny you should say that.” She started to chew her nail and then dragged her hand from her mouth.

  “Don’t you enjoy what you do?”

  “I don’t hate it but teaching isn’t on my list of the ten jobs I’d most like in the world. Not that I could actually do any of those jobs. Not even the chocolate tasting otherwise I’d be the size of a bus. Instead, I spend my days explaining in slow, steady sentences how to ask inane things in three languages so students can pass a test at the end of the course and get some pathetic piece of paper that means absolutely nothing.” She blushed. “Oops. Forget I said that. Of course the certificate is a valuable asset to your résumé that employers are sure to…oh crap.”

  She wriggled and he was desperate to kiss her. Christ. What the hell was the matter with him? Just do it. She’d either kiss him back or slap him and at least he’d know how she felt. He leaned closer and Wren’s eyes widened. Did she want this as much as him? Was her heart pounding, her palms sweaty? Just do it. Adam licked his lips.

  “Can I sit with you?” asked a woman in tight black pants and a pink cowl-necked sweater. She didn’t wait for an answer but put her glass of wine on the table and pulled over a chair.

  “Hi, Sylvie,” Wren said and sighed.

  Did Wren sound pissed off? He was. The kiss would have to wait. But it was coming.

  Chapter Six

  Tomas sat in the pub nursing a pint, bought by Georg from the English conversation class, thinking it wasn’t enough compensation for having to listen to the guy ramble on about metal heat treatment. That his English was appalling made it even worse.

  “When quenching, forbidden to stir because one side fast cooling, one side slow cooling and metal will turn—bend—screw—twist.” Georg demonstrated with his hands and Tomas bit back his laugh. Maybe not so boring.

  “For making item hard on outside can use cyanide. I buy from Sweden. Very good.”

  Monique sat on Tomas’ other side, her stool as close to his as the legs would allow it, her arm against his, her foot nudging his whi
le she drank a glass of champagne bought by Georg. When Georg finally ran out of words that made sense, Monique took over. She was equally boring, talking about her papa’s publishing company, her papa’s château, her apartment in Paris and her precious dog Froufrou, bemoaning she’d not been able to bring the mutt with her even though he’d fit in her purse.

  When she finished talking about herself, she quizzed Tomas about where he came from, who his friends were, what he did for a living. He managed to deflect most of her questions and pretend not to understand others, but she was like a guided missile. There was something about Monique’s intensity that unsettled him.

  He tipped back on his stool and glanced around the pub only to bring the legs crashing to the floor when his gaze locked onto Adam. What the fuck? He sat at a table with two women, one of whom was Wren.

  “Excuse me,” Tomas said and pushed to his feet. “I need speak to someone.” What the hell was Adam doing in here?

  Adam looked up as he reached his side. The surprise on his face seemed genuine before he blanked his expression. Too late, Tomas realized he’d hardly be pleased to see him.

  “Hello.” Adam’s voice was cool.

  Tomas nodded. The arctic tone both disappointed and reassured. He didn’t deal well with coincidence. Of all the pubs in Leeds, Adam happened to choose this one? Of all the women in Leeds, he happened to know Wren?

  “You two know one another?” Wren glanced between them.

  “We meet yesterday. We neighbors. Adam just move in.”

  “And you’re both Ezispeke students? That’s a coincidence.” Wren shot a smile at Adam.

  Tomas was confused. A student? Hadn’t he said he was only in Leeds for three weeks? Could still be a fluke but—

  “And I’m Sylvie,” said the other woman at the table.

  “Sorry, Sylvie,” Wren said. “This is Tomas. He’s in my English conversation class. Tomas meet Sylvie. She teaches English and Japanese.”

  Sylvie held his hand a little too tightly and looked into his eyes a little too long. He pulled up a chair and sat on the other side of the table between Adam and Wren. His distrustful brain filed this whole encounter under something to check on. When had Adam booked his course? Was he even who he said he was? Was Wren? Christ, working undercover made him suspicious of everyone.