Melting Ms Frost (13 page)

Instead of parrying in his usual fashion, he let the smile fade as his look sharpened. ‘Like the men your mother chooses?’

‘Yes. Just like them.’ She made a point of meeting the look, steeling herself against the penetrating grey. ‘Domineering arseholes. Trouble.’

‘Not all dominant men are arseholes by default, Annabel. Just like not all strong, independent women are stereotypical bitches.’

Wait
. Annabel felt her brows draw together. Was he calling her a bitch, or saying she wasn’t one? For God’s sake, how long until the effects of this wine started to wear off? She was having trouble keeping up.

Falling silent, she watched as he picked up his cup to drain the last of the coffee. His forearms were covered for once which should have pleased her but left her feeling strangely disappointed instead. At least he had equally nice hands, she noticed – strong, long-fingered and dextrous. She’d seen him work with those hands, seen him handle delicate crystal with the lightest of touches and wrestle heavy crates with sure strength. Would they be as deft, as confident when caressing a woman’s body? Her body? How would it feel to have them on her, touching her? Looking at the size of his hands dwarfing the tiny espresso cup, the thought made her heat up and shudder.

‘
Jesus
, Annabel.’

The rasped words had her gaze flying up to his face. He was staring at her with a new intensity, his previously relaxed demeanour tightened with tension.

‘Whatever the hell it is you’re thinking now,’ he said through a tight jaw, ‘I suggest you stop.’

Oh God. He knew she’d been thinking intimate thoughts about him and he looked ready to pounce. She made a grab for her bag and umbrella. It was officially time to go.

In her haste to slide off the stool, she stumbled on her heels and reached out to steady herself. In the next instant she was lodged in the space between Aidan’s legs, the palm of her free hand clasped to his upper thigh. She stared dumbly at her fingers splayed across the worn denim, aware that beneath the soft layer of fabric he felt warm and hard and strong.

And warm, so very warm. Had she already noticed that?

She ordered herself to let go, but as usual her body seemed deaf to reason when it got too near Aidan Flynn. Instead, almost of their own accord, her fingers squeezed tighter, testing the firm muscle. When it didn’t give at all under the pressure, something low inside her rolled over.

At the sound of Aidan’s sharp breath, she raised her eyes to meet his, found the silvery lustre already darkening, pulling her in. And for the life of her, all she wanted to do in that moment was let go – dive in and sink down to the depths where the promise of pleasure glinted like lost treasure. Was that glimmer even the real thing, or the shiny lure of fool’s gold?

There was only one way to find out.

This close, the heat rose off him, washing his rich, male scent over her. Her breath came short as she leaned in, closing the distance between them, drawn to that heat, that scent. Aidan didn’t move, his own breath escaping from his slightly parted lips to mingle with hers. She dropped her gaze to them, wondering if they’d feel as soft as they looked when they pressed against hers – what they’d taste like beneath the lingering traces of coffee. Annabel licked her own lips as though they could already reveal the flavour of him. The whisper of a curse fell from Aidan’s mouth into the last inch of space between them, so close she felt the brush of it tingle against her damp flesh.

‘Well, are you leaving or not?’ a testy-sounding voice demanded, jerking Annabel’s attention to her side. A middle-aged woman with a coffee-and-mince-pie laden tray and an arm full of bulging shopping bags gave her an impatient glare as she edged proprietorially towards the vacated stool.

With the spell broken, Annabel blinked, aware of her thudding pulse. What the hell had just happened? She’d been about to kiss Aidan Flynn, for fuck’s sake.

Worse, she still felt the urge to do it. But looking back at him, she realised he hadn’t moved so much as a muscle. Just like that episode in the cellar, he appeared completely unmoved. How humiliating. Hadn’t she just been talking about not making the same mistakes as her mother? And here she was proving herself equally as weak and gullible and making a fool of herself.

Mortified, she snatched her hand from his thigh. ‘It’s all yours,’ she told the woman as she barged past Aidan’s leg and rushed for the door.

He knew it the moment he stepped into Cluny’s the following day and saw her. The darting, shifty-as-all-hell look Annabel Frost flicked his way from across the room told him loud and clear that she’d done more than just think about him after she’d bolted so abruptly from Chino.

‘I wouldn’t bother looking so happy,’ Tim warned him as he bustled up with an armful of linens. ‘She’s on the warpath today. Poor old Donna’s been copping an earful for the past ten minutes.’

‘Why? What’s happened?’ Aidan asked, looking over to where the little waitress stood wide-eyed and hunch-shouldered in the face of Annabel’s wrath.

‘Who knows? She spotted a mark on one of the tablecloths that came back from the laundry and just went ballistic. She’s insisting that every table in the place be stripped, changed and re-laid. Every. Table.’

Interesting. While Tim mightn’t have any idea what the problem was, Aidan’s guess was that not only had the lovely Annabel got down and dirty with herself to relieve the arousal that had taken hold of her over coffee, she obviously wasn’t happy about having done so. He hoped that meant she’d been thinking of him while she’d been doing … Jesus, whatever the hell it was she’d been doing to herself. A slideshow of stunning X-rated images ran through his mind, leaving him to acknowledge that, despite what he’d told her yesterday, Annabel had been right to sound disbelieving about him being nice. Smart woman. If she knew even half the things that went on inside his skull she’d never think of him and nice in the same sentence again.

‘Mate, I’m telling you, you’re asking for trouble. Keep your head down or she’ll have that grin off your face in no time,’ the Aussie said as he started off in the direction of the kitchens.

It seemed like sound advice, but convinced as he was that he’d been instrumental in creating the situation, Aidan was unable to heed it. Instead, he made for the two women with a view to drawing some of the heat off Donna. Noticing his approach from the corner of her eye, Annabel stopped mid-tirade and turned towards him.

‘Mr Flynn. I need a word in my office,’ she said stiffly before stalking away without so much as another glance towards the waitress, who sagged with instant relief.

Following Annabel through the fully staffed but silent kitchens, Aidan ran the gauntlet of exaggerated looks and theatrical slit-throat and hanged-man gestures the chefs mimed at him as he passed.

Once in the office, Annabel made straight for the opposite side of the desk, putting the solid object between them. For a moment she looked as awkward as he’d ever seen her, green gaze jumping around the room as though searching for an escape route before she took a slow breath and trained her eyes roughly in his direction.

‘About yesterday. The personal issues I mentioned. I wanted to ask you to keep the details to yourself.’ She spoke in a stilted manner, suggesting that now that she knew his full identity, she was weighing every word she said to him with caution. ‘I’d prefer to keep my private life separate from my professional one.’

No wonder she looked so uncomfortable. With the way she perceived him as her mortal enemy, he imagined how having to ask him for a favour must stick in her throat. He’d known that discovering his family ties would change the way she felt she could act towards him, and this effort at forced politeness was the result. He’d also known that once the liberating effects of the wine had worn off, she’d regret the fact that she’d let herself open up to him. And he supposed he should feel guilty that he’d intentionally taken advantage of her booze-loosened state to slip through her defences and gently prise open the high security vault labelled ‘private’. But in all honesty, he couldn’t muster any remorse for his actions. Not when he’d learnt so much about what made up the foundations of Annabel Frost’s hard outer surface.

‘And you’d trust me not to say anything if I gave you my word I wouldn’t?’ He started moving closer to the desk, noticing for the first time the bloodshot tinge to her eyes and the brow furrowed with tension.

‘I don’t see that I have much choice but to trust you,’ she snapped. ‘It’s too late now to do anything but try and appeal to your honourable side.’

‘So you think I have an honourable side?’ He grinned, because from her tone it was obvious she didn’t think any such thing.

She gave him a baleful look through her red eyes. Under the glare of the unforgiving lighting in the office, her pale skin had a pasty look and a fine sheen of perspiration. Her hands trembled slightly.

‘Have you taken anything for that hangover?’ he asked her.

Annabel shook her head, and instantly looked like she regretted the movement as she turned a bit green. ‘I tried earlier but I brought it straight up again.’

He frowned at her. There was no way she should be feeling so rotten after the relatively small amount they’d consumed at the tasting. True, she’d been quick to succumb to the effects, but still … ‘Do you always react badly to alcohol?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t really drink.’

‘Ah, Annabel. I’m sorry.’ He felt a twinge of guilt in his chest. ‘I should have been more careful serving you the wine yesterday.’

She gave him a surprised look, which soon turned sheepish. ‘I think it might actually have more to do with the bottle I bought on the way home.’

His brows shot up at that.

‘I know,’ she said crossly, rubbing at her temples. ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’

‘It always does,’ he sympathised. ‘Why don’t you sit down for a minute? Let me get you something to help.’

‘I don’t need any help,’ she insisted, automatically slipping back into defence mode, trying to keep him at arm’s length. ‘The only thing I need is to know that my private business will stay private.’

Aidan had to admit he was getting a little bored with arm’s length, not to mention frustrated with her skewed idea that somehow being independent meant she had to be isolated. Melting Ms Frost was turning out to be more of a challenge than he could have anticipated. But the greater the prize, the tougher the game – and he already suspected that winning this one would bring him more satisfaction than he could have ever imagined.

‘I’ll make you a deal. If you let me administer a medicinal hair of the dog, I’ll promise never to divulge a word you’ve told me.’ Not that he ever would anyway, but he was enough of a gambler to recognise a bargaining chip when he was handed one. And he was enough of a player to know how to use it to his advantage.

Annabel seemed to wilt as her energy waned, draining all the remaining fight out of her. She suddenly looked so young and fragile that he wanted to lend her his strength, wrap her in his arms. He doubted she’d be able to muster much resistance if he tried it, which is why she’d never forgive him if he did.

‘Fine,’ she muttered, dropping into the chair and bracing her head in her hands as she leaned her elbows on the desk.

‘I’ll be right back.’ Leaving her like that, he stopped off in the staff room to remove and hang his coat before making his way to the bar. Ignoring the questioning looks from his colleagues he mixed a drink and delivered it back to her in a matter of minutes.

When he placed the highball tumbler in front of her, she eyed it as though it was a glass of cyanide. ‘What is it?’

‘Essentially, a Bloody Mary. But with an added Flynn twist.’

‘Which is?’ she asked suspiciously.

‘I’m not at liberty to divulge, I’m afraid. Family secret. You’ll just have to trust me.’ He paused to let the significance of his words sink in. Whether or not she picked up on the deeper message they conveyed, she still looked distrustful.

‘There’s nothing sinister in there, I promise,’ he assured her. ‘I’ll warn you that there is a dash of alcohol but I’ve been as light-handed as possible without compromising its efficacy. Start with small sips until your stomach feels more settled, but make sure you drink the whole lot. Give it about half an hour and you should start feeling better.’

He left her again and joined Jon behind the bar, helping ready everything for the upcoming service. When Annabel next made a front-of-house appearance, he was pleased to see it was with a slight glow to her cheeks. The gentle pink bloom suited her much better than her previous bilious hue. Catching him smiling at her, she sent him a look of grudging gratitude before settling into her usual routine of treating him with cool disdain.

It wasn’t much in the way of progress, but it had been worth it. Every hard-earned inch of ground he won got him closer to his goal. All he had to do was make sure he kept up the momentum so she didn’t have the chance to retreat.

By the end of the evening, Annabel could feel the effects of Aidan’s amazing restorative hair of the dog starting to wear off. She hadn’t been able to identify the secret ingredient, but figured maybe that was a good thing. Given its near magical abilities that had her flying through a busy service, she had to question the likelihood of it even being legal.

Packed up and ready to leave, she received a call from Richard Landon, who apologised for missing yesterday’s tasting.

‘I admit to being surprised to find out the family connection between you and Aidan Flynn,’ she made a point of telling him. He needed to know that she wasn’t happy with being misled.

‘Yes, sorry about that. He asked for discretion and I respected it.’ There was a pause before he continued. ‘Annabel, Aidan’s not had an easy time of things recently.’

She shouldn’t think so, if he went around behaving the way he did. Was that Richard’s way of admitting that he knew what he was like?

‘I believe Cluny’s is a good place for him to be. Bronagh and I are very fond of him.’

Well, if he did know, that made it very obvious that she couldn’t take her complaints to him, could forget about getting rid of Aidan Flynn. It looked like she was stuck.