Page 15 of All Mine (The All Mine #1)

Isabella

‘I need water!’ Isabella said, wafting her face with both hands, feeling a bead of sweat run down her cleavage.

The tribute section to Bon Jovi was finished and the band were starting on Tina Turner, fifty people all around her running on the spot to the beginning of ‘Proud Mary’.

Amber gave her a thumbs up and Isabella weaved her way through the crowd in the general direction of the bar.

She’d chosen a good time as the dance floor was pulling people in and she slid in between a girl group who were organising their order and a man leaning over a beer.

A barman with long hair was busy at one end pulling pints and another was filling a tray with shots at the other.

Isabella rested her elbows on the bar, feeling the breeze on her hot skin from the fan on the back wall.

‘Well, hello.’ The voice was so close to her ear that she jumped. She looked at the sweaty face of the thirtysomething man next to her. He looked like he should have gone home an hour ago.

‘Hi,’ she said politely and returned her gaze to the bar.

‘Haven’t seen you here before?’ he slurred.

‘No,’ she said, not wanting to be rude but not wanting to encourage him either. Suddenly wishing she was joining in with the whooping along to Tina Turner.

‘I’d remember a face like yours for certain. . .’ he continued, using all his best chat-up lines at once.

She smiled politely, checked both ends of the bar, but both bar staff were still busy. One shaking a cocktail, one shovelling ice into a bucket.

‘Wanna drink?’ He lifted his beer towards her. ‘I’ll buy you a drink. . .’

‘No thanks,’ Isabella said firmly. ‘I’m buying a round.’ She took her phone out of her jeans pocket and studied it pointedly to avoid further conversation.

‘So, what’s your name then?’ the man said suddenly, banging his chin on her shoulder.

Isabella’s stomach lurched. He wasn’t getting the message.

‘Isabella,’ she said. The girls next to her gave up the wait and succumbed to the dance floor frenzy in full swing. She watched them go. Someone else moved round the bar to take their place beside her.

‘Fancy a dance, Issy?’ he said, placing a clammy hand on her arm.

‘No thanks.’ Her voice was firm, but she smiled politely.

‘Ah, come on, be friendly,’ he said, moving his arm to put it around her shoulders. That was enough.

‘Just to be clear, I’m not interested in you sexually, at all,’ she said with a straight face as she physically lifted his arm away from her.

His eyes widened and then flicked around himself as if checking she was addressing him.

She continued: ‘But it was nice to meet you and if you ever want to take your mum out somewhere nice for dinner, then I’d love to see you at my new restaurant.

Tutto Mio. It’s on the square. Opening soon.

’ She flashed him a smile then which increased his confusion.

‘Eh?’ he said. ‘How did you know I live with my mum?’

‘I didn’t. But the clues were there,’ she said. ‘Now, sorry, I don’t know your name?’

‘Andy,’ he stammered.

‘Well, Andy, if you ever want to improve how you approach women, I can recommend a guy called Tongue Tied on TikTok. He gives great advice on conversation starters that might come in handy.’

The man was out of his depth now, mouth opening and closing.

She smiled and nodded to show him she had finished when the person standing on her other side leaned in.

‘Everything okay here?’ Etienne said and just like that she was looking into those green eyes and black eyelashes. He was so close.

‘Everything’s fine, thanks,’ replied Isabella. ‘Isn’t it, Andy?’

Andy nodded, muttered something unintelligible and slid off his bar stool. He shuffled towards the exit, leaving his pint half-finished on the bar. Isabella turned back to Etienne.

‘I didn’t need rescuing,’ she said and it came out sharper than she meant.

‘I know that. I heard you.’ Etienne raised a dark eyebrow in appreciation and then laughed. ‘I bet Andy’s never been given dating advice before.’

‘Maybe someone should have done it earlier,’ Isabella said. At this close range, she could see the designer-length stubble. She could smell the woody scent of his cologne. She could feel the heat from his body.

‘Got a night off then?’ she asked.

‘Celebrating with my friend. He’s finished a deadline.’ He chatted for a bit about the game and Isabella recognised the names Fox and Walker the girls had mentioned earlier.

‘Good to see you out, though,’ he said. ‘I see you’ve met some of the locals.

’ He nodded at the dance floor where Wren was now on a podium in the middle of the floor.

Rosie and Amber were holding each other’s hands above their heads and dancing back to back.

Someone had started a conga which snaked around the back of the stage. The place was chaos.

The long-haired barman finally appeared in front of them and Etienne indicated that Isabella should order first. The bartender departed again to fetch another Blue Lagoon for Amber, three shots of toffee vodka and a pint of water, no ice.

‘It’s great here,’ Isabella laughed, turning her attention back to Etienne.

‘Honestly, I haven’t been out like this in so long.

’ She took a second, trying to remember, but then realised it would have been in the Daniel Days.

She blinked the image away. Better to forget that.

Daniel had probably been texting his lover every time he was at the bar, while Isabella was on the dance floor.

‘How come?’ Etienne asked, leaning on the bar next to her, his thigh casually pressed against the curve of her hip. She felt the warmth of him, his proximity the closest contact she’d had in months. Something in her longed to press back.

‘I haven’t felt like dancing for a while,’ she said and again those eyes found hers. Probing, searching, as if to see her story. Read her like a book. Uncover her secrets. Jesus, she sounded like one of Rosie’s steamy romances. NO SEX FOR A YEAR. She shook herself. ‘It’s been one of those years.’

‘I’ve had one of those before,’ Etienne surprised her by saying and she thought she saw something like regret cross his face, just for an instant.

‘But it’s a good break from decorating!’ She rolled her shoulders and saw his attention flash to the strap of her top as it slipped off her shoulder. She lifted it back into place. ‘I never realised how exhausting it is. My body aches all over. . .’

He flexed his hands together.

‘I give a good massage, so I’ve been told.’ He grinned wolfishly.

‘Don’t worry!’ she said as his eyes met hers again. ‘Nothing a long, hot soak won’t solve. . .’

‘I’ve got a big tub. Room for two?’ he asked, one eyebrow lifted. ‘You know where I am. . .’

He caught his lower lip under a pointed, white incisor.

Good God. The thought of those white teeth on her own skin. Stop! She laughed and shook her hair away from her neck, which was suddenly burning hot. The action drew his eyes before they dropped to her chest, where she knew her breasts were on show again through the silky satin of her top.

‘I do,’ she said, grinning back. ‘But I think maybe tonight. . .’

He was leaning in now, his face mere inches from hers, and she didn’t pull away.

His eyes sparked as the knuckles of his hand brushed against hers, a soft touch which set off some kind of chain reaction right the way to her pants.

One finger lazily stroked a single line on her forearm from wrist to inner elbow, where the skin was smoother and more sensitive, without taking his eyes from hers.

Get a grip, woman. The man is hypnotising you into having sex with him.

‘What you need is a long, cold shower,’ she said. He laughed, head back. She couldn’t help but smile. He glanced at her phone.

‘Do you have NameDrop on that?’ he asked. She nodded and he tapped his phone to it, transferring his details automatically.

‘My number,’ he said. ‘For whenever.’ The one-sided smile made her want to lean forward and kiss him. To see what it would feel like to press into his body. To twine her arms around his neck and pull his face to hers.

‘Eighteen quid, please,’ the long-haired bartender said and Isabella threw him the money and grabbed the tray, taking it and her throbbing nipples back onto the dance floor.