‘You look stunning.’ His voice had a rusty edge that did strange swoopy things to her stomach.
Ivy smoothed her hands down her hips. ‘I bought it this afternoon. I thought I’d better treat myself since this is my first proper date in months.’
‘How many months?’
She could feel her cheeks warming and leaned down to pick up her bag from where she’d put it when she’d answered the door. ‘Ten.’ She cast him a sideways glance. ‘I’ve been out with girlfriends and stuff but not alone with a guy for close to a year.’ She twisted her mouth in a rueful grimace. ‘Kind of weird for an almost-thirty-year-old, huh?’
He came over to her and took one of her hands in his, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand, his eyes locking on hers. ‘It’s a little unusual but definitely not weird.’ He gave her hand a light squeeze and released it, slipping his hand in his suit pocket as if determined not to touch her.
Ivy was aware of the grey-blue intensity of his gaze, aware of the tightening of the air, aware of the faint tingling of her skin where his thumb had stroked. ‘So, how was your day?’ Nothing like a bit of inane conversation to recalibrate the atmosphere.
Louis glanced at her mouth and her stomach swooped and dived again. ‘Boring until now.’
She moistened her lips, her pulse fluttering. ‘Are you flirting with me?’
He stepped closer, his hands taking both of hers, his thumbs doing the spine-loosening, stroking motion again. ‘Isn’t that what a man does when he takes a woman out on a date?’
Ivy’s stomach fluttered and she couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. ‘If I was one of your normal dates, you would sleep with me at the end of the evening, wouldn’t you? How do I know if you will or you won’t?’
His eyes moved between each of hers—back and forth, back and forth—each time making her heart beat a little faster. Then they dipped to her mouth and he slid a hand along the side of her face until his fingers were entangled in her hair. ‘It’s always a possibility, but let’s wait and see.’ His tone contained a relaxed go-with-the-flow note but his eyes communicated something else. The flared pupils, the concentrated focus, all spoke of a man who was tempted, seriously tempted, to act on his primal desires.
Ivy didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. She was stuck in a strangely exciting limbo of ‘would he or wouldn’t he?’ She began to step back, but before she could take even half a step he caught her by the wrist, his fingers overlapping.
‘It’s not that I don’t want to, ma petite.’ His voice had dropped even lower in pitch and it sent a wave of goose bumps tiptoeing over her skin. He brought her wrist up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her leaping pulse, his eyes holding hers. ‘I’ve been thinking about little else all day.’
Ivy swallowed. ‘Really?’
He gave a rueful slant of a smile. ‘Really.’ He released her wrist and stepped back to open the door. ‘We’d better get going. They won’t let us in until after the interval if we show up late.’
Ivy followed him out of her flat to where he had parked his car half a block up the road. He helped her into the passenger seat and pulled down the seatbelt for her. She clipped it into place and watched as he strode around to his side of the car, the lines and planes of his face so familiar and yet so strange. It was as if she were seeing him for the first time, not as her older brother’s friend but as a virile thirty-four-year-old man with primal drives and desires. A man who was attracted to her and, unless she was very much mistaken, tempted to do as she asked. A tiny frisson passed over her flesh and her breath hitched at the thought of him being her first lover. Maybe even tonight.
Louis slipped into the driver’s seat beside her and sent her a glance. ‘Relax, ma petite. We’re just hanging out together to see what happens. Okay?’
Ivy could feel a blush rising to the roots of her hair. ‘How did you know what I was thinking?’
He gave a slow smile and started the engine with a throaty roar. ‘Because I’m thinking it myself.’
He backed out of the parking space and deftly wove into the traffic, and for once in her life Ivy was lost for words.
Musicals weren’t really Louis’ thing, but he enjoyed watching Ivy being captivated by the songs, the costumes and stage set of the popular musical. She looked captivating herself in a dress that hugged her breasts and thighs, her impossibly high heels showcasing her legs and ankles. Every now and again he caught a whiff of her flowery perfume and, every time she glanced his way with her shining gaze, his heart would trip like a foot missing a step on a ladder.
The theatre was packed, and he was dreading being noticed, but it was worth it to see Ivy having such a good time. During the interval, once they had their drinks with them in the private box, she leaned closer to point out something in the programme he’d bought her. ‘Hey, isn’t that the actor in that BBC drama you recommended a few months ago?’
Louis looked at the name and nodded. ‘Yep. That’s her.’
‘Did you ever date her?’
‘No.’
Ivy swept her gaze over the audience below. ‘On balance, given you’ve slept with so many women, there must be a few of your past lovers here, don’t you think?’
‘It’s highly unlikely.’
‘Why’s that?’
He turned his head to look at her. ‘The press grossly overstates my sexual proclivity. If I’d slept with as many women as reported, I’d never have been able to build such a success of my career.’
‘Why are you driven to work so hard? Ronan told me you hardly ever take holidays and you often work weekends and public holidays.’
Louis leaned back in his seat and picked up his glass of champagne from the holder on his seat. ‘I run an architectural business. I have people depending on me, clients and staff, and I’m committed to doing a good job of everything I take on.’ He took a sip of champagne, savouring the pear and honey notes.
‘Do you enjoy it?’
‘Of course I enjoy it.’ He put down his glass and glanced at his watch to see how much longer before the second half of the show. ‘It sure beats the hell out of being an accountant.’
‘Is that what your father wanted? For you to work in his accountancy firm?’
Louis was conscious of his jaw automatically tightening. ‘In my father’s mind, I let the family line down by pursuing architecture instead of accountancy like him and his father before him. The Charpentier accountancy firm will end with my father and for that he will never forgive me. Nor, I suspect, will my mother, mostly because she desperately wants grandchildren and I’m not interested in providing them.’