Instruction in Seduction (2 page)

BOOK: Instruction in Seduction
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Was the body underneath his winter clothes as well worked out as the one he used to work so relentlessly on? The one she’d longed to work on herself.

“Hey there? Good to meet you.” The Australian tinge to his accent was still deliciously detectable. She’d listened to it transcribing audio tapes often: imagining him whispering to her during torrid bedroom scenes. Scenes that could never have happened in a million years.

“We’re celebrating surviving last year and anticipating great things for the next one,” Lisa told him and shook his hand. “I’m Lisa, this is Ailsa.”

“I’m loving Scotland so far,” Nick said with a wry smile. “Hoping for a warm welcome to make up for the temperature deficit. Plus I’m in need of T.L.C.”

“T.L.C.?” Ailsa asked directly after taking a deep breath. His eyes shot to hers and her pulse jack-hammered in her veins.

So far he hadn’t recognised her yet but why would he? Eight years had seen many changes in her thankfully, including the disappearance of her bookish spectacles and unflattering fringe. Plus this hat disguise altered her beyond any recognition. These days she was a lot hotter than back then; even if her social life wasn’t much improved.

“T.L.C.,” Nick repeated softly. “Teasing, Laughing, ComeHereKissMe, I figure I deserve it.”

Ailsa found her ability for further conversation floored but she rallied quickly, “Your first Edinburgh New Year Party?"

His eyes glinted when he simply nodded back, “And I imagine you’d be great at T.L.C.”

The Nick she remembered back then hadn’t been so forward. He’d been a hard edged, straight talking Hotel Manager. Out to make his name and doing a good job of it the last she’d known. In the year she’d worked there he’d risen through the ranks.

“I am.” Ailsa felt a blush rise beneath her scarf. “I’ve a hunch you’ll do just fine,” she answered.

“Are you okay under all those layers of wool?” he pressed. “I have a hunch too. Mine says there’s a red hot babe under all that clothing.”

“A hot babe that doesn’t want to get cold.”

“Then why not come and cosy up with me?”

Ailsa laughed and when she saw the look on Lisa’s face she realised she wasn’t seizing her New Year’s promise. To assert herself and take what she wanted. In fact she was falling at the first hurdle.

“Cosy sounds inviting,” she purred back and gave him a wink.

“Wool works for me, we’re big on sheep farming in Oz,” Nick laughed and her stomach flipped over like a gymnast. He took the top of her scarf between his fingers and lowered it a touch. Ailsa felt like a veiled dancer being unmasked by the super sexy Sheikh. And if felt really good.

“You fancy exchanging body heat?” Nick asked.

Ailsa felt her pulse ebb towards ‘full flow’. “Sure.” She watched as he blew on his hands. “Should’ve brought gloves. Don’t want to scare you away with cold hands.”

He watched her for a few seconds; sexy as hell and twice as sure of himself. The guy she’d been fool enough to ask out when she was still wet behind the ears and he’d turned her down flat
. Ugh - what a memory.

“Put your hands in my pockets since you’ve no gloves?” Ailsa ventured, fast getting into her new assertive role. What was the point in a new resolution if you weren’t prepared to put in a bit of pre-midnight practice to check the fit? She seized Nick’s hands in hers.

“Cosy as toast. See?” she said nailing his gaze with hers.

Lisa looked at her open-mouthed. Believing she’d lost the plot. If nothing else happened tonight at least she’d succeeded in flooring Lisa.

“Thanks,” said Nick. “I will.” They grinned at each other in mutual mischief. Then he pulled her in front of him and made a big comedy scene of pushing large strong hands between her arms and into her pockets.

“Made for each other,” said Nick. “Who needs gloves anyway?”

In seconds she’d grasped his fingers. She could smell him; all lime and tantalising spice and utterly addictive.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Never been more so.”
Jeez what a floozy she could sound when she tried. Maybe this new resolution would be much easier than she’d even imagined?

“You clearly prepped better for the weather than me,” Nick said softly next to her ear. His voice was a deep, velvety rumble.

“I did. And I have to warn you I’m wearing long johns under all these clothes,” said Ailsa not missing a beat. “How’s that for scorching?” She took a breath with expert timing. “As for my Arctic Thunder Windproof Knickers, they’re unmissable and have never let me down.”

Everyone laughed, Nick included and she realised her heart was pounding hard in her chest just seeing him crack up and his eyes dance. Comedy was bubbling inside her. Flirty banter with Nick making her light-headed.

“Sounds x-rated,” Nick laughed. “I clearly picked the right woman.”

She wasn’t about to admit that under all the wool and clothing lurked an aqua silk vest and lacy French knickers. Ailsa was all woman, just as underneath the faux advert model there lurked a red hot passionate woman bursting to have the guts to do something about it.

Only now she was.

She was being led by Kirsty’s example. She was finally spreading her wings. And now she’d started it was more addictive than she’d ever imagined.

“Good to meet you, Ailsa,” said Nick softly near to her ear. “I think we’re going to get on well. We’ve dealt with the Teasing and Laughing part of my night. How about the ComeHereKissMe,” Nick whispered. Around them the crowd were anticipating the bells which were only moments away.

“Ten, nine, eight…” said the tannoy.

“You up for a drink with me?” he mouthed, paused, watched her.

“Tonight. My place if you can handle it?” she parried.

There wasn’t time for further getting-to-know yous. The countdown was upon them.

“Seven, six, five,” the loudspeaker proclaimed. Ailsa didn’t reply. Her pulse was verging on Richter scale.

Lisa mouthed the words. “Nick’s hot.”

“Three, two, one. HAPPY NEW YEAR EDINBURGH!”

“Happy New Year, Ailsa.”

As the thunderclaps proclaimed it Ailsa found herself welcomed into Australian gladiator’s arms. He smelled so uncommonly good it made her want to be uncommonly bad.

His lips met hers and her reservations crumbled. Goodbye old Ailsa: hello new vampish femme fatale.

When Nick’s warm, plaint mouth claimed hers it told her all those dreams weren’t misguided as the sparks went off fiercer than the fireworks in the sky. His lips were warm, his embrace strong and heady enough to lose yourself in. He kissed like a man should – stridently. She felt the tip of his tongue coax her lips at the seam. It thrilled her and made her pull him closer. Their tongues danced together in mutual appreciation before she knew what they’d begun.

Before long it was a tango of passion that spun them both into breathlessness and a yearning for privacy and more.

“A very promising start,” Nick said when he finally stood back. The warm comforting silk slide of his tongue was still imprinted on hers and making her breathing speed and spin. He held her fingers in his.

Ailsa felt positively giddy, intoxicated by the man and his rollercoaster ride. He smiled and her heart sprang inside her.

“Are you always this forward or am I a special case?” Nick whispered.

Ailsa looked sombrely into sapphire sky eyes, “Out with the old – in with the new. Fancy a party at my place?”

Nick nodded. “I’d be crazy to refuse. And that kiss won’t be our last.”

He was hot, he was drop dead handsome and he was a hundred per cent heaven sent to kick-start her resolution.

And grabbing his arm and pulling him behind her, Ailsa realised it was damn well about time she grabbed life and kissed it into submission.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

“Ailsa Murray, you minx you,” Lisa whispered by her ear and gulped back her enrapt delight. “When you say you’re going for it, you go full throttle. Snogging with strangers. What next? You’ll be buying tickets for male strip shows and telling me you’re wearing no undies next. Why the full on man-grabber vibe? This really isn’t like you.”

Ailsa swallowed a giggle. “Told you. I’m through with low key. I’m opting for assertive now.” Ailsa kept her voice low and out of Palmer earshot. “Anyway, Nick’s not a stranger; we know each other from years ago. He doesn’t realise it yet but he was my boss once. He won’t recognise me though; when I think of myself back then I cringe. I was so straight-laced.”

“You always were a slow developer,” Lisa answered. “But I never thought you had such O.T.T. tendencies. Those lips are doing overtime. Going to invite him back for a nightcap?” Lisa waggled her brows.

“Already have.”

Lisa feigned a sharp intake of breath. Ailsa ignored Lisa’s teasing and giggles and just shrugged. There was plenty Lisa didn’t know right now. Plenty meaning scary, scary stuff that Ailsa wasn’t prepared to share with anyone; classified info no-one would ever get a sniff at. (Well, not without the aid of hypnosis and thumb screws).

How exactly did you explain Kirsty’s Seduction Introduction List?

Her sister’s old forgotten letter enclosed a list detailing – step by step, like a diary almost – how she should go about revolutionising her sex life. It started with the easy stuff like how to transform herself. From hair, make up to wardrobe and attitude. It gave her tips and pointers and suggestions to get into the swing.

By the end, if the list were to be followed to its full conclusion, she’d have the lingerie collection of a Parisienne Madame and would be learning to pole dance and charming men with the click of a finger.

The list was thorough. Kirsty took her seduction techniques very seriously.

It was almost too good to be true.

It made overt suggestions of things to try. She guessed it was kindly meant (even though it still bothered her that it must have been so obvious Ailsa struggled with guys that she’d felt the need to put her straight about it).

Yet getting that letter from her now dead sister was still an event so bizarre and sanity defying it scared her silly. Even now. Kirsty had always been the member of the family who knew what made men tick. Ailsa just hadn’t realised how much of an art form she’d turned it into.

In fact Ailsa’s first inclination was to turn the list into a novel; it would surely be an instant worldwide bestseller? Though how could she really know if it all worked until she tried it out?

And oddest of all Kirsty’s letter actually predicted this would happen – e.g. she’d told her Nick would arrive in her life. She’d said that sometime she least expected it, she’d meet the perfect guy. One she’d want to be more daring with; one who’d make her throw off the straight-laced shackles altogether.

Nick Palmer fit that Fit Guy Fingerprint like a custom made kid glove.

Was it finally time to cart her off to the funny-farm for analysis? Now that she believed spirits were guiding her love life?

And how could she slip it into the conversation to make Lisa understand – “
Hey Lisa – did I mention my sister wrote me a letter before she died. She thought I needed to stop being inhibited with men and have more fun. So she gave me a list. I need to take the lead apparently; she’s given me her strict Seduction Instructions.” See, crazy talk – thought Ailsa.

Even just admitting it in her head made her antsy. The fact that Kirsty Murray, seven years dead, had chosen that week to make the sealed letter reappear. Well, it honestly felt like she’d been given Kirsty’s decree on her lousy love life. And, as in most things, Kirsty was right.

And if her elder sister was now an angel, Ailsa wondered what the Big Guy in the Sky was making of her morals? Was Ailsa going potty at last?

“Going to see it through then, sleep with him? Prove you’re a changed woman?” Ailsa was jolted back from her memory of her sister’s handwritten guidance letter by Lisa’s voice.

Part of Ailsa longed to say,
who am I to argue with an Angel from God?

“He’s so hot, Australian too. Why not give that resolution a try and make him your guinea pig. You’d be mad not to.” Lisa wittered on blissfully unaware of Ailsa’s inner turmoil. “I bet under those clothes is the body of a Greek statue; the man’s a total angel. Sent from heaven above.” She sighed with glee.

If only she knew the truth.

“Isn’t he just,” said Ailsa, knowing for sure she must. There was no going back. Sleeping with Nick would give her such great memories, now that she’d finally lost her grip and was going to wind up seeing little purple spacemen next. Talking to herself about the Martians arriving. Next she’d be wearing big clumpy shoes in public and shouting at pigeons.

Her steady decline had begun.

But at least she’d have memories of great sex when they put her in her straight-jacket and threw away the key.

***

He’d been a high flying Hotel Manager for a chain out to make his name in the business. She’d been his lowly temp P.A. A temporary personal assistant he’d never noticed for an instant. A temp assistant with much to learn.

And it all happened at a time that the hotel chain was bought out by a huge, select, impressive chain, and Nick’s career went top flight overnight.

Back then Ailsa’s female wiles educational needs ranged from ‘barely there eye-make’ (she’d been a bit heavy handed in her early years) to waxing (she hadn’t braved it).
Hey, she was young.

She’d had an auburn ponytail and too long too skinny legs and huge book nerd glasses. She’d gone to London to study drama. Sadly starring roles there never came true because she’d been called back home when tragedy struck.

She’d been a girl with wanton longings as yet unfulfilled; urgent needs for Nick Palmer, her gorgeous unattainable boss.

From the moment the H.R. Officer introduced them, “Well Ailsa, this is your desk. And through the glass on the phone there is Nick. He’ll be your boss. I’ll introduce you now.”

He’d welcomed her, shaken hands. She’d thought the twittering love birds of attraction singing around her head may just never shut up. And then he’d got down to the tasks in hand.

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