Page 23 of All Mine (The All Mine #1)

Etienne

She paused before shutting the door and threw him an almost apologetic smile as if she wasn’t quite sure what she was doing there.

‘Hi,’ he said.

‘Hi,’ she replied.

At last, one of the diners on table ten put his hand up and did the age-old sign for the bill.

‘Here,’ Etienne said to Isabella, pulling out a stool at the bar. ‘Have a seat. I’ll be right with you.’ He watched her climb up onto the stool, cross her long legs and run her hands through her wavy hair as the diners paid and packed up their things.

Closing the door behind them, he turned the sign to closed, then flicked the restaurant lights off, leaving just the cosy glow of the bar.

‘Whisky?’ he asked and when she nodded, he set about the drinks, adding an oversized cube of ice into each of the heavy glasses. They clinked. He leaned on the bar from the serving side, facing her.

‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Isabella said. ‘I needed some company. I was driving myself mad over there.’ She sipped and sighed.

‘Not at all,’ he said.

‘And just because I’m here doesn’t mean I want a foot rub.’ She spoke sternly, looking him directly in the eye.

He laughed, liking her straight talking as he remembered the way she’d put Andy in his place at The Bolthole.

‘Your feet are safe with me,’ he said, thinking the rest of her might not be. ‘Bad day?’

‘You don’t want to know.’

‘Try me.’ He put the bottle of whisky between them on the bar and pulled up a stool. ‘I’m a good listener. Comes with the territory.’

An hour later, Etienne knew the whole story.

Her marriage to a man with floppy hair. His cheating.

The divorce. And now the proposal. He asked questions, which she answered.

But in the main, he just let her talk. It was a story he wouldn’t have expected her to tell.

He admired her honesty, but could feel her hurt. It was obviously a raw wound.

‘I feel like such a fool. Again,’ she finished. ‘He’s moving on– and I’m not.’ She lifted her drink and threw it back. Etienne filled a glass of water and put it next to her on the bar.

‘How can you say that?’ he asked. ‘Look at what you’re doing with your restaurant. I can’t believe you’re doing all that on your own. That’s what I call moving on. Setting up a whole new life.’

She pursed her full lips, and he felt a jolt of desire.

‘That’s because I promised myself I’d have my new life up and running in a year.’ She hid a smile as if something was funny. ‘I gave myself three hundred and sixty-five days to reinvent my life. Isabella 2.0. I want to prove that I can be single and successful.’ He noticed the jut of her chin.

‘Prove to yourself– or to him?’ he asked. She smiled ruefully.

‘Both, probably.’ She shrugged. ‘I just want to prove I can do it.’

Etienne poured them another measure and she added the ice from the bucket.

He sipped slowly and thought about his own ambitions.

To never allow a woman to come in between him and his brother.

To never let his brother down again. He knew that his mistake to Alex reinforced his loyalty to his Brothers from Another Mother too.

He’d do anything for them, and would always be there to help, whether it was making dinosaurs for Fox’s son or propping Walker up on the anniversary of his grandmother’s death.

He put them above any one-night stand. They were his priority until he could prove to Alex he was trustworthy.

That he had his back. Now, his chance was almost here.

He would pay the money back for Alex and have his brother back in his life.

‘But my year is almost up,’ Isabella said, swilling the amber liquid in her glass over the ice before taking a long swallow.

‘And I’ve still got a long way to go. So, until then, no distractions.

’ She leaned closer across the bar and wagged her finger at him.

He caught it in his hand, holding it between them.

‘Like what?’ he asked, their faces mere inches apart.

‘Like you,’ she said breathily. Her face was flushed and her eyes held his.

Damn. At exactly that moment he’d been thinking he’d like to distract her until she couldn’t think straight.

He grinned and saw her eyes spark.

‘You never know, it could be good for you. Moving on. You know what they say. . . to get over someone. . .’

‘You get under someone else. . .’ Her lips were slightly apart and he could feel the warmth of her breath on his face.

Time stopped. He loved these moments. The anticipation. The knowledge that in a moment, he’d feel how soft those lips were. He’d wind a hand in the hair at the back of her head and expose her neck for his mouth to taste.

‘Not me,’ she said softly, and he wasn’t sure if she was trying to clarify it for him or reaffirm it to herself. ‘I promised myself a year of no sex.’

He growled lightly in the back of his throat.

He still held her finger and he tugged it lightly until it touched his lower lip.

Her eyes widened. He opened his lips and touched her fingertip with his tongue.

When her breath hitched he encircled it, holding it to the first knuckle in the heat of his mouth.

She gasped but her eyes didn’t leave his.

‘I mean it,’ she said but her voice trembled. ‘No sex.’

He sucked softly and saw the way her nipples hardened, saw the push of them against the cotton of her sweater. Wanted to reach for them and fill his hands with the weight of her breasts.

Smiling, she shook her head slowly at him, her eyes holding his, and he reluctantly released her finger with an almost inaudible pop.

Fuck, he was hard.

‘I should definitely go,’ she said, slipping off the stool.

‘I think the exact opposite,’ he said. ‘You should definitely stay.’ He rounded the bar and stood close enough to make her lift her head to look at him.

‘If I have any chance of sticking to my rules, I have to leave this minute.’

‘Rules are made to be broken,’ he tried again, wanting to crash his mouth onto hers.

‘Not this one,’ she insisted and managed a smile. ‘It’s important to me.’ She stepped back.

‘Do you feel better at least?’ he asked, hiding the fact he wanted to lift her back onto the stool, spread her legs with his hips, and hold her so tightly she’d feel the press of him through his jeans, right at her core.

‘You’ve definitely changed my mood,’ she said with a flash of her normal cheeky smile as she headed towards the door.

‘Glad to be of service,’ Etienne said, coming to escort her to the door, ignoring the pulsing in his boxer shorts. Acknowledging the strength of her resolve. Because he knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

‘Does your sex ban only mean you can’t have sex with someone else?’ he asked and saw the flicker of confusion. He clarified, ‘I take it you can still satisfy yourself?’

He liked the way she lifted her chin defiantly. ‘Of course. How else do you think I’m getting through the year?’

‘Then stand still,’ he said. ‘Trust me.’

To his surprise, she didn’t question him, but stopped and waited.

He took her phone from her hand and opened the camera.

Leaning forward, he put one hand flat on her exposed stomach, his thumb fractionally tucked into the waistband on her jeans, his fingers spanning up towards those fucking amazing-looking breasts.

He heard the intake of her breath on contact.

He took a picture of his hand on her body and then handed the phone back.

Thinking she wasn’t the only one with good self-control.

He wanted to rip her clothes off piece by piece and fuck her on the bar.

‘Next time you’re going to make yourself come, look at that picture,’ he said. ‘And think about what we could do next.’

He opened the door for her and watched her across the dark square until she closed her own front door.