Her gaze met his and she gave one of her dazzling, dimpled smiles. ‘Hey, for a moment there I thought you were going to kiss me.’
Louis traced the curve of her mouth with a lazy finger, fizzing sensations shooting through him. ‘I was definitely thinking about it.’ His voice was so rough it sounded as if he’d been snacking on gravel.
‘Then why don’t you do it?’ Her voice was not much more than a breathy whisper that sent a wave of hot tingles across his scalp and down his spine.
He leaned across the gear shift and lowered his head until his mouth was barely an inch from hers. Her breath was milk and honey with a dash of cinnamon-sweetness, innocent, addictive. ‘Once I kiss you, I can’t un-kiss you.’
Her fan-like eyelashes came down over her eyes and her right hand came up and slid along the side of his face, the soft skin of her palm and fingers catching on his light stubble like fine silk on sandpaper. ‘You worry too much.’ She closed the distance between their mouths and touched his lips with the rose-petal softness of hers. It was the barest of touchdowns, but an explosion of sensation erupted in his lips. She eased back to look at him, her eyes dark and luminous. ‘See? No harm done. It was just a kiss.’
Just a kiss? Her lips were a drug he hadn’t known he had a weakness for until now. Before he could stop himself, Louis put a hand behind her head, splaying his fingers through the wild curls of her hair. Her mouth opened on a soft little gasp, as if his touch electrified her the same as hers did him.
He lowered his mouth to hers in achingly slow motion, drawn by a force as old as time. An irresistible force that sent his blood roaring through his veins and his willpower flying out the window. His lips finally met hers and incendiary heat charged from her mouth to his. He gave a low, deep groan and increased the pressure of his lips on hers, fuelled by an uncontrollable need for closer, firmer contact. Her mouth opened beneath the insistent pressure of his, her tongue brushing shyly against his. He cradled one side of her face, the other hand still buried in the red-gold tresses of her fragrant hair, his kiss deepening, his desire rising, his self-control wavering.
Ivy whimpered against his mouth, her hands coming up around his neck, her fingers playing with his short-cropped hair.
Every hair on his head tingled at the roots, every nerve in his body was on high alert, every reason for not sleeping with her retreating to the back of his mind. He breathed in the scent of her—spring flowers with an undertone of heady, intoxicating musk. Somehow, he sucked in some much-needed air before taking the kiss a step further, his tongue duelling with hers in a sexy tango that made his blood thunder through his body. Every time his tongue touched hers, a zapping lightning bolt of lust fired through him. Her lips were velvet-soft and he could taste her strawberry lip-gloss and his own salty, earthy and raw desire—a lethal blend of temptation. He knew he would never be able to eat a strawberry again without thinking of their first kiss.
Without thinking of her.
The thought was sobering enough to give him pause. He pulled back from her, lowering his hands from her cheek and the back of her head, his breathing still out of order, his body still roaring with lust. She looked as dazed as he felt—her eyes shining, her lips cherry-red and swollen, her cheeks tinged with pink.
‘Well, that was a surprise.’ Her tone was light, but a small frown appeared between her neat eyebrows and her gaze drifted back to his mouth. She moistened her lips with a quick dart of her tongue, her gaze coming back to his. ‘I didn’t think it would be as...as nice as that.’
‘What? You haven’t enjoyed being kissed before?’
‘Not really, but with you it was...something else.’ She touched her fingers to her lips as if she couldn’t quite believe what had happened. Her fingers fell away and she added, ‘Is it my imagination or was that kiss kind of off the charts?’
Louis fought not to smile. ‘It was pretty damn good. You certainly don’t need any tutoring in that department.’
She cocked her head like an inquisitive little bird. ‘Hey, is that a smile you’re trying to hide?’ Her own mouth was curved in a smile that made something warm spread through his chest. But he could and would keep his emotions out of this. He did it all the time. A kiss was just a kiss. He wasn’t going to commit to anything else that could have more troubling consequences. He unclipped his seatbelt and took the wireless car-key out of its slot on the dashboard. ‘Come on. Let’s eat. I’m starving.’
But it wasn’t a physical hunger gnawing at him.
It was good old-fashioned, rip-roaring lust.
Ivy was still reliving every moment of their kiss when they were shown to their table in the fancy French restaurant in Soho. Their table was in a secluded part of the restaurant and she wondered if Louis had requested it especially to avoid public scrutiny. She knew he wasn’t fond of the attention his high-profile career as an award-winning architect occasionally attracted from the press. She herself had been guilty of poring over articles about him online, but mostly in a he’s-my-brother’s-best-friend-and-I’m-proud-of-his-achievements sort of way. Nothing else. She had zero interest in him romantically...although that kiss had certainly been a bit of an eye-opener. Her lips were still tingling, along with other parts of her body that had rarely, if ever, tingled before.
Louis looked up from his perusal of the menu. ‘Is there anything that you particularly fancy?’
You. Ivy was a little shocked at how much she fancied him. Up until recently, he had simply been her brother’s best friend—the person she could always rely on to help her, which was why she had approached him with ‘the V plan’. But that kiss had changed something inside her. Maybe Louis was right—they wouldn’t be able to go back to the way they’d been. Changing the dynamic of a relationship—any relationship—was something that could be risky.
She wasn’t the greatest fan of change. She’d been in the same job since university, she’d had the same friends since school. She hadn’t coped well with her parents’ divorce when she’d been a teenager. She hated moving house. She couldn’t pack a bag for a weekend away without worrying she might leave something behind that she needed.
But hadn’t things already changed between them? How could she see Louis as anyone other than the first man who had set her mouth on fire? Lust was a new experience for her. Her previous dates hadn’t stirred anywhere near the same sensations in her body—she hadn’t felt a thing from any of them. She had learned from her parents’ divorce that the last thing she wanted to do was develop feelings for someone who couldn’t love her back. But all Louis had done was kiss her and she was hot for him. She could still taste him in her mouth, could still feel the brush of his hand against her face, his fingers buried in her hair.
She shivered and buried her head in the menu, wondering if her cheeks were as warm as they felt. ‘Let me see, now... Snails? Frogs’ legs? Steak tartare?’