Page 118 of Original Sin

When she had gone, Tess walked back into the living room.

‘Well, I’m going to bed,’ said Jemma, stretching her arms out. ‘I was out until four a.m. last night.’

‘Good luck in Greenwich,’ said Kevin.

‘She’s a wily old fox. She’ll get results,’ grinned Tess.

‘Less of the old, more of the foxy,’ said Jemma playfully. Yawning she waved at them. ‘G’night.’

Tess poured herself another glass of Chablis and sank onto the sofa next to Kevin.

‘Remind me not to get on your bad side,’ he said as they heard Jemma’s bedroom door click shut.

Tess frowned. ‘My bad side? What do you mean? It’s Patty Shackleton you have to worry about.’

‘Oh yes, she’s great too,’ said Kevin. ‘But you got this whole ball rolling, getting things fixed and arranged. I’m impressed.’

Tess shrugged modestly. ‘Is that a compliment?’ she smiled, the wine’s warm fuzziness making her a little flirtatious.

‘Sure,’ he grinned.

‘Well thank you,’ said Tess. ‘A lot of men seem to think that strong women are intimidating.’

?

?Hey, I didn’t say I wasn’t intimidated,’ he teased.

Suddenly Tess was very aware of just how close they were sitting on the sofa, his warm thigh against hers. Four glasses of wine had made her feel light–headed and unusually calm, and she found she was enjoying Kevin’s company. Maybe she was projecting an image of the strong, sensitive type onto Kevin after all the crap with Dom and his shallowness, but Kevin seemed different, and not in a bad way. Plus, she couldn’t help noticing what blue eyes he had.

‘Listen,’ he began, leaning over to put his wine glass on the coffee table. In almost slow motion, Tess saw it overbalance and tip sideways in a perfect arc onto the floor.

‘Oh shit, damn!’ he said, jumping up. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ he muttered, stretching to pick it up.

Tess grabbed his arm, which felt strong to the touch.

‘It’s only wine. Forget it,’ she said, and without thinking she leant forward and touched her lips against his, her eyes closing as she opened her mouth gently for a sweet featherlite kiss. But it never came. Kevin was moving back, his lips pulling away until there was nothing between them but three feet of air prickling with awkwardness.

‘Oh, uh, that’s probably not a good idea,’ he said, looking at the floor.

Tess felt her cheeks flare. ‘Yeah, I’m sorry … Kevin, sorry,’ she said cursing. She felt stupid and ashamed, suddenly realizing how it must look to him: that the whole night had been cooked up with the sole intention of seducing him.

Kevin smiled and pointed to the wine. ‘Don’t worry, I blame the devil’s soda.’

‘Absolutely,’ said Tess firmly. ‘I think my alcohol tolerance is way down from what it was in London. I’m just so drunk, I … ’ She shook her head. ‘I’ll just stop babbling now.’

‘Heck, and I thought it was my movie–star good looks,’ said Kevin kindly.

They both laughed weakly.

‘I think I should go,’ said Kevin, grabbing his jacket. ‘I told the babysitter I wouldn’t be late.’

She waved him out of the room. ‘Yes, go. Go pick up Jack. Go.’

When he was gone, Tess sank down into a chair and put her head in her hands. ‘Nooo … ’ she whispered to herself. ‘Someone tell me that didn’t just happen.’

But it did and it had, and it didn’t look like the ground was going to open up and swallow her. So, groaning, Tess got up, grabbed the empty bottle of Chablis, and threw it into the bin with a thud.

CHAPTER THIRTY–EIGHT