All Bets are On

TEN


She should get out of here. Right now.

Her clothes were all over the room.

There was no way in this universe that Alice could face climbing boldly out of this bed and walking stark naked to pick up her things while he watched her every move. No matter that in the last hour or so he’d kissed her in places she’d never been kissed before, he hadn’t actually seen her naked, had he? Even in the dim light, without the confidence of the moment shyness took control.

She waited, wide awake and trying not to tense up, for him to fall asleep. She breathed in the warm musky scent of his skin and felt the smooth muscle of his body against hers. She listened, trying not to tense, for his breathing to even out and then added an extra ten minutes for good measure. Then she eased herself bit by bit first from his embrace and then from the bed, and then she speed-tiptoed around the shadowy room dodging furniture and picking up her clothes.


Her panties had somehow ended up hanging on a corner of the trouser press and she snatched them back and stepped quickly into them, the words proof required flashing like a neon sign in her mind. If he really was a part of the bet, she intended to do everything in her power not to leave a trace that she was ever here. If asked she would simply deny this ever happened, deny that she had come here, and let’s not forget she had the weight of her ice-queen reputation to back her up. Who would believe on just his say-so that Ice-Queen Ford would ever go to bed with the biggest player in the office?

Providing proof required was not going to be that easy for him.

She put the rest of her clothes on quickly in the bathroom, then, finally satisfied that she’d left nothing to chance, she crossed the bedroom to pick up her bag and coat from the sofa. Turning to head for the door, she was just congratulating herself on doing all she could to dig herself out of the situation when he unexpectedly turned on the overhead light.

* * *

She froze in the sudden brightness and for a moment considered bolting out of the door anyway. She pulled herself together. Dignity meant not running away like some stupid teenager. She turned to face him.

He was standing by the bed wearing nothing but shorts, leaning against the wall next to the light switch. She tried hard to keep her eyes on his face and not let them dip below chest level. It was nigh on impossible. Abs like that really shouldn’t be allowed. And to look at his heavily muscled arms was to remember what they felt like encircling her. She swallowed hard to get some moisture back in her mouth. His hair was tousled into spikes and a small smile lifted the corner of his mouth, creasing his blue eyes lightly. Her stomach felt traitorously melty. It had all been so much easier to label him villain in the semi-darkness. She saw him watching her with a shrewd attention that contained no hint of sleepiness, making it clear he’d probably been awake the whole time.

‘I thought you were asleep,’ she said.

‘You’re leaving?’

She shrugged. ‘I have to get back. I have an early meeting tomorrow.’

Harry noticed she was avoiding his eyes and edging towards the door.

So that was it. She was pre-empting his next move, assuming that taking her to bed would be swiftly followed by him losing interest. Not this time.

‘You’re bailing?’ he said.

‘I’m beating you to it.’

‘You’ve spent the last three years bailing. I thought that’s what all this was about, putting all that behind you, getting back out there.’

‘All this?’

‘Us.’

Just saying the word brought it home how different this was with her. How different she was. When had he last used that term? When it was him and Susie against the world. Since she’d grown up and started her own life it had been him. Just him. Until now.

‘What “us” are you talking about?’ she said. ‘The “us” that have been out a few times, had a laugh, slept together? Because I don’t see how any of that distinguishes me from any of the stream of girls you’ve been with. The only difference is I’m not waiting around for you to get bored and jump ship. I’m getting in first.’

Her hair was tousled from the bed and her eye make-up was smudgier, making her brown eyes look huge. She held his gaze boldly, all bravado. He crushed a surge of desire for her, knowing that to make this about sex would be to confirm all her stereotypical beliefs about him. She obviously thought that was all he was interested in.

A couple of weeks ago this situation would have been gold. When he’d talked her into dating him in the Ladies at work, this would have been the end result of his dreams. Fun couple of weeks, great sex, and now he didn’t even have to do the dumping. She was walking away, leaving the path open for him to just waltz into the office in the morning and collect a nice fat stash of cash and pats on the back from his mates.

So how come the perfect result now made it feel as if his heart was about to be put through a shredder?

He’d fallen for her.

The problem was going to be convincing her of that.

He crossed the room towards her and took her hand in his, entwined his fingers with hers and tugged her close against him. He could smell the faint scent of her hair and the last couple of hours rushed deliciously back through his mind, firing him right back up. She stuffed her bag and coat in between them, effectively keeping him at arm’s length.

‘Don’t go,’ he said. ‘Stay over. I’ll drop you home early in the morning so you can change for work.’

* * *

This must be part of his policy, then. Well, Alice supposed, if you were going to have a short-term fling or a one-night stand, it made sense to squash as much back-to-back sex into that space of time as you could. Though, her mind faltered, if he was in on the bet surely once would be enough. She rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand. She was so confused. She’d made a huge mistake by sleeping with him. She was in far too deep. This went way beyond a dating experiment.

Best thing she could possibly do now was put a stop to it and make a swift exit. Short-term plan: get out of the hotel room and put plenty of space between her and Harry Stephens. Examining her heart for wounds would have to come later.

‘This never happened,’ she said.

The look on his face was one of pure surprise.

‘What?’

‘This,’ she said, sweeping her hands in an all-encompassing gesture. ‘You. Me. Here tonight. It didn’t happen. Erase it from your mind. Pretend I just went home after we were at your house. I’ll do the same. Let’s just get back to the way things were before. Friends.’ She considered for a moment. ‘Actually, scratch that. Workmates.’

She made a move for the door and made an unsuccessful attempt to operate the twisting lock.

‘Wait!’ His voice was genuinely bemused. ‘What are you talking about, this never happened?’ He put a hand out and gently touched her shoulder, turning her back to face him. ‘Will you stop fiddling with the door and talk to me?’

* * *

Harry could see from the anguished expression in her brown eyes that her impulse was to bolt, yet the way her breathing had sped up and the delicious way she bit her lower lip told him otherwise. He lifted a hand to stroke her hair back from her face, heat rising inside him again just at the feel of her skin beneath his fingers. Desire for her was tempered by a sense of hideous shame and hatred for himself. That she’d entrusted herself to him. That he’d wagered money on her. It burned in his chest, eating him up from the inside out.

It was meant to be a laugh. It was most definitely not meant to be like this.

‘I know you’re thinking that now we’ve had sex it’s the beginning of the end,’ he said.

Her face was inscrutable and she didn’t answer.

‘That’s not what I want,’ he said.

She put her head on one side and surveyed him.

‘What is it that you want, then, Harry?’ she said. ‘A second round? An all-nighter maybe—may as well make the most of it as you’ve booked the hotel room, right?’

‘This is different,’ he said.

‘This?’

The look in her eyes was cynical. He hated it.

‘You and me,’ he said.

She only looked at him, the scepticism still right there, and he took her hand and tugged her over to the sofa. He sat down and after a moment she followed suit, perching on the edge of the seat with her bag and coat still in her lap, ready to go.

He looked into her face, holding her gaze as he held her hand in his.

‘All I ever wanted was to have a laugh,’ he said. ‘This decade was meant to be the polar opposite of the last one. I spent the latter half of my teens and the early part of my twenties looking forward to the day where I could make snap decisions, stay out all night, get on a plane at a moment’s notice. All without thinking about responsibility to anyone else. I just wanted to have some fun.’ She was watching him intently. ‘And up until now that’s just what this has been.’

‘This?’

He made a sweeping gesture with his hand.

‘My life. The way I’ve lived since I moved up to London.’

‘And now?’

He held her gaze with his own, trying to communicate that he was serious, that this wasn’t some put-on.

‘When I started seeing you the rules were different. It was clear from the outset that you weren’t about to get serious. A player, you called me—remember? The polar opposite of what you were looking for. And because I knew you were never going to want anything long term there was no need to keep a guard up or distance myself. I’ve got to know you. I don’t usually let that happen. I’ve got to like your mad behaviour—you’re so strung out at work and underneath there’s this smart, funny girl making me laugh and buoying me up.’

He had no idea if he was making any progress here at all. Her face gave nothing away. She was still listening though; she hadn’t chosen the door. Not yet.

‘I realised I haven’t really got to know anyone since I’ve been here. That’s been the payoff for keeping things fun—I never get to know anyone beyond the most basic stuff. And after a while that means one person becomes very much like the next.’ He looked at her and shrugged. ‘What the hell is fun about that?’


She didn’t say anything, just looked at him wide-eyed.

‘And now this thing with Ellie—I’d been kidding myself that if we were both adults, going into it with our eyes open, then I couldn’t be blamed for her meltdown when it ended. I could kid myself like that because she never meant anything to me beyond short-term fun. Same with the other girls. None of them meant anything to me. But then tonight in that bar I watched you talking to John. I saw the way he was looking at you and paying you attention.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘I didn’t like it.’

‘It was down to you,’ she protested. ‘I was on a date with you. Don’t you think I’d rather have been sitting and talking to you? You were totally surrounded and you didn’t look like you minded one bit.’

How could he tell her he had wanted to keep their relationship low-key because he was afraid someone would have given away the bet? He groped for an alternative explanation.

‘You wanted to start socialising again—that was the whole reason you went out with me. I thought you might want to mingle.’

Oh, yes, that sounded just great.

‘It was a couple of drinks in a bar, not the Ambassador’s Reception,’ she snapped.

‘It wouldn’t have mattered where we were, don’t you understand? Watching you tonight was the first time I understood why Ellie reacted the way she did.’ He shook his head, still surprised himself by the revelation.

‘I was jealous.’

* * *

He was jealous? Her heart wanted to soar with happiness at what that meant. Surely he would have just let her leave if she meant nothing more to him than a quickie. He certainly wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of explaining himself to her. And there was that tiny niggling voice telling her that if he was still interested in her after tonight then he was very unlikely to be in it for a bet. Why keep seeing her once he’d bedded her if all it had been about was some stupid financial incentive? The temptation to just accept what he’d told her and let him take her back to bed was huge, but she reined in her skipping heart.

The caution of the past held her back. She needed time to think clearly, get some space. She’d done enough following of impulse for one night. If he was still as full-on as this tomorrow, maybe then she would believe him.

Standing up, she leaned down to give him a soft kiss. She squished the sparks it generated in her belly and moved a firm step backwards the moment she felt his hands begin to slide around her.

‘I really have to go,’ she said, trying to keep her breath even when she really wanted to pant. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Before all sense disappeared she left the room.