Page 23 of Love Affair in London (Once Again #12)

“And you’re right,” she said. “That’s exactly how I felt. Free. That’s why I could come on a vacation that was supposed to be a honeymoon and still have a good time.”

He curled his fingers around hers, lifting her hand to his lips, kissing the warm spot where his thumb had been. “And you feel good because I found your phone, and now you’ve introduced me to roast beef and Yorkshire pudding and malt vinegar on French fries.”

She giggled, totally entranced. “And I should take you for afternoon tea as well.”

“Deal.” He snapped up the offer.

There was something in his gaze—something almost hot, something that seemed to promise her wildest fantasies could come true on this vacation.

“More than anything right now, I’d like to make love to you.” He didn’t overthink his words, didn’t analyze if the timing was right or wrong, didn’t wonder if she’d walk away.

For what felt like an eternity, she simply looked at him, the pupils of her pretty eyes widening. Then, finally, she leaned in and kissed him. Though her lips parted only slightly, he tasted the sweetness of champagne laced with sugar. He tasted the sweetness of her .

He could have taken over the kiss, deepened it, but this was her kiss, her answer.

When she pulled back, she was smiling. “I’d like that very much.”

She picked up her glass for a toast. “This is what I’ve been dreaming about all day.”

He tapped his beer glass against hers. “Me too.”

He liked that she admitted she’d been thinking about him, and he smiled, a slow, satisfied curve of his lips.

“You had me from the moment you said all you wanted was great sex.” She’d had him from the moment he’d seen her smile in the airport lounge.

“I feel this was inevitable, from the moment you lost your phone and I found it.”

She tilted her head back to drain the last of her champagne, her throat a graceful curve in the dim light. Then she looked at him again. “It seems like more than coincidence, you being on the same flight, then being the one to find my phone.”

“You think like I do—there are no coincidences.”

He left the last of his beer untouched and stood. He didn’t need it. She intoxicated him. When he held out his hand, she laid hers against his palm and rose. She wasn’t petite, but she had to tip her head back to look up at him. He couldn’t resist kissing her again.

This time, he took control, parting her lips with his tongue, going deeper, relishing her taste, her heat, the press of her body against his. She wound her arms around his neck, and they kissed until the sound of voices and footsteps on the stairs pulled him back to the Sky Garden.

The elevator arrived as they reached the lobby, spilling out a group of laughing twentysomethings. When they stepped in, they were alone, descending into their own private world.

As soon as the doors closed, he pulled her close, threading his fingers through her hair.

He plundered her mouth, devouring her until he was breathless.

When the gentle lurch of the elevator signaled they’d reached the lobby floor, he pulled back to see her face. Her lipstick was gone, her eyes dreamy.

Stepping away as the doors opened, he whispered, “And I promise you great sex.”

They strolled hand in hand back to the hotel, moving from one pool of streetlight to another. The night was cool, but with her hand in Jared’s, Piper was warm. God, she was so much more than warm—she was hot, burning up with the need for his touch.

Giddy with desire, she refused to think about the fact that he was over ten years younger than her. She refused to think about her fifty-five-year-old body. She could always take him in the dark.

He stopped her under a streetlamp to kiss her, pulling her close, his hand at the base of her spine molding her to him. Close enough that she could feel how much he wanted her.

She would not look a gift horse in the mouth, to quote another of her mother’s sayings. It was only a night. Or maybe a couple of nights. Then he’d become engrossed in his conference—with his colleagues, presentations all day, and dinners out at night with potential clients.

She wanted this romantic fling in London, their age difference be damned.

Back in the hotel, once they’d boarded the elevator, he asked, “Your room or mine?”

Reaching past him, she pushed the button for her floor. “I’d like another glass of champagne.” She eyed him. “I don’t have any beer. Can you handle champagne again?”

He smiled, a wicked, sexy smile. “I’d like to pour champagne on you and lick it off.”

She was glad no one else had gotten on the elevator because she wanted this—his seductive words, his breath warm and tantalizing against her ear, his lips grazing her cheek as he leaned in for another kiss. This one was short and sweet, leaving her wanting more.

When they entered her room, she was relieved she’d tidied up earlier. She’d even washed out the plastic champagne flutes. Who cared if they weren’t crystal?

While she soaked sugar cubes and poured the champagne, he stood behind her. The feel of his body nuzzled against her back, his arms wrapped around her waist, made her pulse race.

He picked up a glass, his lips brushing her ear, his breath turning her liquid inside.

“Let’s sit outside and watch the lights on the bridge,” he whispered.

She’d expected him to sip the champagne, then throw her down on the bed. But he led her to the balcony, pulling the two chairs close together. They sat, fingers entwined, sipping sweet, bubbly champagne.

Something compelled her to speak—maybe embarrassment, maybe fear. If they’d gone straight to bed, she wouldn’t suddenly have these doubts. “I don’t want you to think I jump into bed with any man I meet on vacation.”

He set his glass on the table and raised her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles tenderly. “I don’t want you to think I sleep with a woman every time I go on a business trip.”

It was the perfect thing to say. It made her feel special. But he went on, giving her even more. “It wasn’t just a line when I said I wanted you the moment I saw you. I made love to you in my fantasies last night. I dreamed about undressing you and kissing every inch of your body.”

She couldn’t help it; she had to address the elephant in the room—at least her elephant. “But I’m fifty-five years old. And you’re what, forty…?” She let the number hang.

“Forty-three,” he supplied.

Twelve years. Was that too much time? Women changed so fast after menopause. But men stayed virile for a long time after forty-three.

He stroked a finger over her cheek. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “And you have a gorgeous body.” He trailed down until he cupped her breast, his thumb strumming her nipple through the sweater and silky camisole.

Turned on and yet still nervous, she choked out a laugh. “Thank you. But you haven’t seen me without my clothes on.”

Why was she fighting this? She wanted him. She hadn’t worried so much with Roger. But Roger had been older. This man was in his prime. And she was… past her sell-by date.

He kissed her cheek, the corner of her mouth, the edge of her jaw.

“You have nothing to worry about. You’re more beautiful than a lot of women fifteen years younger than you.

I don’t care that you’re older than me. I want to make love to you.

” His lips brushed hers. “I want to taste you. I want to make you come. I want to explode deep inside you.”

He pulled something from his pocket, and tossed it on the table. A small box of condoms.

“I planned to seduce you.” He grinned shamelessly. “I went to the store while you were freshening up. That’s how much I want this.”

She laughed, but it came out as almost a snort. “I can’t get pregnant.”

“Maybe not. But every woman deserves protection.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“I’m a careful man. I never cheated on my wife, but since then—” He shrugged. “There’ve been a very few. But I protect whoever I’m with.”

He was saying he’d indulged in brief flings since his divorce. Maybe not every business trip, but sometimes. And so had she, between her divorce and meeting Roger. But she’d never been with a man twelve years younger than her.

Still, she wanted him. She was only fighting because she was afraid of the way he would look at her when she was naked.

But all she had to do was turn off the lights and close her eyes. She wouldn’t have to see what he thought of her body reflected on his face.

When he said, “Let me make you feel good,” she let his words seduce her.