Meet Me in London: The sparkling new and bestselling romance for 2020. Perfect escapism, for fans of Lindsey Kelk and Heidi Swain.

by Georgia Toffolo

  She laughed. ‘You’ve really put a lot of time and thought into this – honestly, thank you so much. But yes, leave the music to the students. You’re too old to choose anything they’ll approve of, we’re positively ancient in Jasmine’s eyes.’

  ‘God, I’m past it at thirty-two. I just hope they can relax and enjoy the whole thing.’ He shuddered as he ran his hand through his messy hair, looking handsome and ageless in the subdued light. She fought the urge to copy his gesture and sink her hands into that glossy hair.

  ‘There won’t be any relaxing. I think we’ll be at excitement level warp ten by then. It’s building already; I’m starting to get texts about everything from where we’ll store the clothes, to who’s doing the make-up, to how much they should sell each item for. They’re going to be giggling messes. It’s honestly the best thing that’s happened to them.’ Even so, she couldn’t get Andrew’s suspicious stare out of her head. ‘Andrew hates the whole idea.’

  ‘Then he’s short-sighted and can’t see past his own self-importance. That’s always been his problem. He’s too closed off to ideas. It’s not all about the money, it’s about building relationships with the community. Look at what we’re achieving here.’

  Victoria smiled to herself. Had Oliver always thought like that or was he falling in love with her community? Although, the way Andrew and Peter had been cosying up, it looked like his cousin was building allies too. ‘What’s going to happen to him?’

  ‘Once this place has opened he’s being sent up to Edinburgh to manage the store there. It’s been ticking over reliably for years so he shouldn’t be able to stuff it up. Too much, anyway. God, it’s a decent job he’s walking into. Good prospects. He’ll be the top guy with plenty of people to do his bidding. Is it too much to ask that he enjoys it, settles down, meets a half-decent woman and suddenly finds happiness with his lot?’

  ‘He’s jealous.’

  Oliver’s pacing came to a screeching halt and turned to her. ‘Because I have you?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Although it was a punch to her pride that she was the first thing Oliver thought of. He had her. Yes. She knew it. He had her captivated. Had her aching to spend time with him. Aching to kiss him again. ‘The fact you’re older and the favourite. That you’re fixing his mess. And that you gave me his grandmother’s ring.’

  ‘He actually said that? If he has a problem, then he can take it up with me. Not you. We share a grandmother, she wasn’t only his. The ring was passed down to me from my father. From his mother. And it will be passed down to my kids and then on through the next generations of Russells.’

  His kids. Victoria’s blood slowed. He assumed it was just going to happen, that in his future was a family. That it was as easy as that. And it wasn’t. She, more than anyone, knew that. The thought of having a baby with him – how their child might have looked – pricked at her, rubbed at the wound she’d thought was healed. And suddenly here she was, reeling from the loss of a family sometime in the future all over again.

  OK. Should she tell him… everything? No. It didn’t matter; it wasn’t as if her infertility was ever going to affect him. She reminded herself that this was a friendship and nothing more and she didn’t need to parade her imperfections in front of him. ‘Tell me the story of Nana Norma.’

  ‘Ah.’ The mention of the name brought a smile to Oliver’s face. ‘Andrew talked about her?’

  ‘He seemed to expect that I knew all about her.’

  Oliver leaned against a railing, opposite a white plinth where, she imagined, a mannequin would be advertising some upmarket clothing brand in a few days’ time. ‘I would have told you eventually, you can’t be in this family and not know about Nana Norma. She was a firecracker of a woman. She had a backbone of steel but a huge capacity to love too. She flew Spitfires in the Second World War and by all accounts had some hairy near misses. There’s a story about her working with the Resistance in France, although I don’t know if that’s just exaggeration.’

  ‘She sounds amazing.’

  ‘She was. After the war she met my grandfather, fell in love and had two sons.’ Judging by the look on Ollie’s face Nana Norma had captured everyone’s hearts. ‘But she had so much energy that looking after a family wasn’t enough to keep her busy, so she went to work for Russell & Co. It had been Russell & Sons until that point, but she made grandfather change it in case they had daughters. And because, no matter what Grandpa thought, she was pretty much at the helm. He didn’t make any decisions without consulting with her first.’

  ‘Go, Norma.’ Victoria did a fist pump.

  Oliver laughed, low and deep. ‘She was formidable all right, but all I remember is a little old lady – yes, she was tiny – who swore like a trooper, chain-smoked and drank whisky over one cube of ice. Never two. She used to sing the old war songs as lullabies. She told me she’d flown those planes for me. For my future. She’d put her life on the line for children and grandchildren she hadn’t even had. Hell, have you any idea how that feels? To have someone love you like that before you’re even born?’

  ‘I get pretty close with my parents. Sometimes I complain that they’re over-protective, but it’s their way of saying I love you.’

  ‘That’s what it’s about, right?’ His eyes burned with belief. ‘For ever, the future. Love.’

  He said it almost as if the concept was foreign to him. Had he never fallen? Never spent sleepless nights thinking about someone’s caress, or a kiss? Had he never planned a future with someone else?

  He scuffed his shoe on a floor tile as he spoke. ‘My parents have it. My Nana Norma and Grandpa had it. Back then they didn’t know if they’d survive the war, so they learnt to live fully, love deeply and fiercely. They knew life was precious and that love is a gift you grab when you get the chance. They spent fifty years together.’

  He wanted it so badly, she could see. But he’d never found it. His successful, powerful family had shown him a bar so high he doubted he could do it justice. What if he bet on the wrong woman and the Russell ideal came tumbling down? What if he destroyed what his family had created?

  She realized that was why he’d asked her to do this. So he didn’t have to give himself wholly to another person who might not fit the Russell ideal. Was he ever going to take a risk on love or was he going to keep on pretending his whole life?

  She didn’t know. She wanted to know. Wanted to know everything about him and the Russell history. ‘Do you think you’ll ever find it?’

  ‘I haven’t been looking.’ He shrugged. ‘No one’s held my interest long enough to think of a future with them.’

  ‘You’ve been dating the wrong women then.’

  He turned to her and gave her a look she couldn’t read. ‘Clearly.’

  ‘So what would you look for in a potential wife?’ Although, really she didn’t want to know because then she’d compare herself to his ideal woman and she knew she’d come out lacking.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t know, Victoria. That’s exactly why I needed you to help me out.’

  At least he hadn’t said tall and blonde and clever with spreadsheets. That was probably the kind of woman he’d fall for. A peer in his field. A beautiful peer.

  Her chest constricted at the thought of him being with another woman, even though she knew it would inevitably happen. One day she’d open the gossip pages and see his wedding photographs. He’d find someone who held his interest far more than she did. Or could. And a part of her heart would shrivel up.

  ‘But then, after this, won’t your mother be on your back again? Pressuring you to settle.’

  ‘I don’t want to just settle. That’s the point.’ He scuffed his hand over his hair. ‘I’m just buying more time, that’s all.’

  ‘Settle down, I was going to say. Even Nana Norma did that.’ Victoria leaned against the railing next to him feeling the warmth and strength of his body next to hers. Her arm brushed against his and she didn’t flinch away, wanting the feel of h
is skin on hers to linger just a little longer. All her nerve endings fired and she felt dizzy with a sudden need to be closer to him. And closer still.

  Behind them was nothing but air, and a long way down to the ground floor. The building was magnificent. A legacy to his family. But she wasn’t thinking about the Russell family and its past, she was thinking about now, here, so close to him his aftershave scent wove around her like smoke making her belly contract, her breath stall in her chest. She held on to the railing to steady herself. ‘I wish I could have met Nana Norma, she sounds extraordinary.’

  ‘Legend has it she was a ruthless businesswoman and it’s thanks to her that we expanded the way we did when rationing came to an end and people had more cash in their pockets. But it must have been pretty dull running a retail business after all that excitement in the war.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Not if her husband was like you. ‘I reckon there’s plenty to be excited about.’ Aargh. She realized how that might sound like a woeful attempt at flirting. ‘I mean – you know, it must be a fascinating business.’

  ‘It is, V.’ He cracked a cheeky smile as he twisted to face her, interest in his eyes. So, yes, he’d thought she was flirting. ‘There’s never a quiet day.’

  ‘V?’ He’d used her nickname. Her chest flooded with warmth. ‘Ol?’

  He laughed. ‘No way, Ollie is fine. Or Oliver. Never Ol.’

  The noise level below was receding. People were leaving. The workmen had downed tools and disappeared. And here they were, suddenly alone.

  ‘Do you have a middle name, Ollie? I can’t believe we’ve got this far before we talk about this. But at least it’s something else I can tick off the list of things I need to know for your mother.’

  ‘Edward, after my grandfather.’

  ‘I like it. Regal.’

  ‘Like Victoria. Middle name?’

  ‘Elizabeth. I think my parents were covering all possible future queen options. Although, sadly, I missed my chance with William and Harry.’

  ‘Still, always good to have goals.’ His eyes lit up and he gave a very regal bow. ‘Your majesty.’

  ‘Idiot.’ She gently hit his arm and was rewarded with a smile that was at once mischievous and deliciously heated. He shifted a little closer to her and that simple movement caused a riot of excitement inside her. A tantalizing thrill of anticipation. Was he going to touch her? Should she touch him?

  But he made the connection first, the brush of his fingers on her cheek. A light touch that had the tiny hairs on her body standing to attention and heat pooling deep in her gut. His eyes locked on to hers. ‘Do you like being called V?’

  ‘Totally.’ The pathetic truth was, she’d liked it more when he’d called her My Victoria. ‘Victoria’s a bit of a mouthful. But Mum and Dad were determined to keep it the full monty long-winded name and never once called me anything different. The girls call me V. You can too. Just never Vicki…’ She shuddered at the thought of Peter and the way he whined her name.

  ‘If you were to choose, which would you prefer?’ He hadn’t taken his eyes off her and the chemistry between them was becoming off-the-scale hot as his fingers trailed to the back of her neck.

  ‘Pretty sure I like Norma best of all now.’

  ‘That wouldn’t work for me.’ He stepped even closer. ‘Not sure I can kiss a Norma the way I want to kiss you. That just wouldn’t be right.’

  His laughter faded and a seriousness took over. Dangerous intent flickered in his eyes.

  Her mouth went dry. And wet at the same time. He wanted to kiss her. Desire spiralled through her sharp and intense. ‘You can’t. Not here.’

  ‘At your apartment, then? Or my house? Somewhere, damn it, Victoria… anywhere.’ He closed the distance between them, squeezing his knee between her legs, capturing her against the railing.

  ‘I…’ Her senses were so swamped by his touch, his scent, his lust-filled voice she could barely find words. ‘I… thought it was just an act. You said it was inspired. A great move.’

  ‘It was inspired, but I sure as hell wasn’t acting. And I want to do it again. Do you?’

  Her body flooded with urgent need. They could do it again. Right here, if they wanted. The whole place had fallen silent but for the hum of electricity and the dulled traffic noise. They could kiss here, they could take it up to his office. To her bed.

  God, she wanted him in her bed, so badly. To feel him naked beside her, on her, in her. Just one night. Just once. One perfect night with him.

  But then he’d see her scars, there would be questions. Pity. Words.

  Oh, why couldn’t she just gloss over all that and kiss him hard? Forget the questions, forget over-thinking.

  She looked up into his dark mesmerizing eyes, he was still waiting for her answer. Did she want to kiss him again?

  Yes. But, no. ‘My head is all over the place with this, Ollie.’

  ‘Mine too. My body has a mind of its own. We can take it slow. Your speed.’

  ‘My speed is not even touching the ignition, Ollie.’ This was agonizing. The subdued light caught the tips of his hair making them golden. His eyes burned with a stark need. The air was filled with his scent. There was nothing more she wanted now than to slide into his arms. The temptation was overwhelming and she was struggling to keep control. Truth was, she was utterly and completely lost, in him.

  He brought her hand up and held it against his chest in a move that was almost unbearably chivalrous and tender. She could feel his heart hammering hard.

  ‘V, is it me? Am I reading this wrong? The kiss was real. I’m blown away by the chemistry between us. Pretty sure you’re feeling it too?’

  She could barely find her voice. She’d never felt such a heightened connection to someone. Never known that having someone close enough to kiss, but not being able to, was such complete agony. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then why not?’

  She should have moved away then and broken this deepening intimacy. But she didn’t. ‘I’m not looking for anything long-term.’

  ‘I’m not asking for fifty years or even fifty days. But you’re the only woman I’ve ever met who’s held my interest for me to want more. So, I’m asking for a few minutes, Victoria. Enough for another kiss. Enough to see where it might take us.’

  She didn’t know what to say. They’d agreed to always be honest with each other and he was expecting that. But did she need to give him a full run-down of her injuries and an explanation of the long-term prognosis? That she wouldn’t be able to give him the children he hoped for. That her belly had scars… faded and silvery, but still visible.

  For one more kiss? No. That would be attaching too much significance to what for him was probably only a fling, and for her couldn’t ever be more than that. Besides, he’d lose interest in her in no time. The only maths she understood was working out her pattern measurements and fabric needs.

  But, hell. Another kiss? She’d give anything for that. In fact, it would be good to explore a relationship without worrying about any future.

  She’d never felt more turned on and more confused in her life.

  Her hand went to his chest, the soft linen of his work shirt under her fingers.

  His fingers curled round her ponytail and he tugged, letting her hair fall over her shoulders. He breathed in sharply and picked up a strand, let it flow through his fingers. Then cupped her cheek. ‘Beautiful.’

  Oh, hell. She’d been thinking he was never going to take a risk, but she was the same. Stuck in an ever-decreasing cycle of fear of being rejected and hurt. But he wanted to kiss her, he’d just freaking well said it out loud. And she wanted to kiss him. And more. She wished she had the nerve of Nana Norma. The ability to jump in and act. To live fiercely and not worry about the consequences, or think about tomorrow.

  She looked deep into his eyes. Saw the truth there, the desire. Saw this chance to grasp something she wanted. For five minutes. Or fifty. For now, at least.

  Maybe it was time she
took a damned risk and lived for the moment instead of always thinking about protecting herself from the future.

  What would Nana Norma do? With an uncertain future and a chance for some fleeting joy?

  Live.

  So, she gripped his shirt in her fist, tiptoed forward and slid her mouth over his.

  Chapter Thirteen

  THE FIRST TOUCH OF her lips was enough to send Oliver’s lust into super-drive. She made him forget everything else, but her. Made his focus laser-sharp on her, and blind to everything else. He pressed her against the glass railing, moulding his body to hers. He could feel her curves, the press of her breasts against his chest. The gentle parting of her legs to let him closer and closer still.

  He imagined stripping her clothes off, item by item, taking his time to unwrap her. He imagined how she would look in his bed, her dark hair flared on his pillow, her eyes heavy with sex. He imagined tracing his fingers, and then his tongue, across her body, kissing her most intimate parts.

  ‘Oliver,’ she moaned as she opened her mouth to him, her tongue dancing with his as she wound her fingers into his hair. His hands went to her waist, fingers sliding under her sweater to the soft silk skin underneath. Her lips were still cold from the November night but hot from need. She tasted of hope and freedom, of lush desire unfolding under his touch. She moaned against him, urging him on. He traced butterfly strokes up her ribcage and she curled into him, twisting her body so her breast met his palm.

  The kiss was fire. Breath. Heat. A melding of wants and needs, a desperate exploration. Possession. The minute he’d seen Andrew and Peter talking to her he’d felt a feral need to claim her as his. And ever since that hug in her apartment he’d been desperate to taste her again. And more. God yes, he wanted all of it, all of her.

  She moved against him, pressing hard against his body, kissing a hot wet trail from his mouth to his neck in hungry gasps, making him writhe against her. An image of Peter and the way her ex had looked at her flashed through his head. Oliver cursed and found her mouth again, using her desperate kisses to wipe away the picture, wanting to brand his name on her lips, on her skin. No one else would ever kiss her like this. Want her like this. No one.