Catch me a miss

to wipe the smile from his face. He was walking into town with Cherry Neita. Cherry Neita. This morning, he hadn’t even known that name. Now it held as mu

ou want to walk?” He asked. “It’s cold.” She gave him an odd look. “The town centre’s just around the corner.” True enough; he could hear the busy traffic already. But he didn’t want her to walk a metre if it wasn’t necessary. Ruben cast a worried glance

lips, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Feel free to laugh at me,” he grinned back. “I know I’m arrogant.” She chuckled. “As long as you know.” “What I meant,” he said, “is that I like talking to people who are at eye level.” They turned into the town centre, right onto the little high street. “Where do you want to eat, by the way?” She shrugged. “I don’t really mind. Somewhere with cake.” “You like cake?” “I love cake. Plus, it’s my birthday.” The word ended quietly, her voice fading away,

birthday cake,” he murmured. Did she notice the fact that he was pulling her closer? He didn’t think so. She came as if floating, half-dreaming, and now he imagined that he could feel the heat of her body, even through both their coats. There was barely a breath between them. He could kiss her. Did she notice? Or was she as mindless right now as he was? “I always want cake,” she replied, her voice absent. “Everyone wants cake.” But her eyes were focused firmly on his lips. Maybe he should kiss her. A bus barrell

wanted to. If she asked him to. God, she was ridiculous. “What?” She clipped out. “Cake,” he said simply. And despite herself, she softened. He remembered the cake. Of course he did, her inner voice snapped. It sounded suspiciously like her mother. Don’t give him points for basic recollection. He plucked a dessert menu from the centre of the table and handed it to her with a flourish. It was odd—everything he did seemed utterly natural and unaffected, yet he was at once completely charming. In Cherry’s experience, charm took work. Maybe he was especially good at faking it. The thought should have made her wary, but instead, she began to think of him as a kindred spirit. A kindred spirit with deliciously broad shoulders and a beautiful smile. And very big hands. “What would you like?” He asked. “Um…” She studied the menu, as if she hadn’t come here a thousand times. It was a touch upmarket for a weekday lunch,scanning the rows of shops and cafes before them. “That place looks good.” “Copper?” She blessed him with a smile. “You have good taste. Let’s go.” CHERRY WAS no stranger to flirting. In fact, s

clearly, Ruben didn’t receive that message. He leant forward too, until their heads were perilously close, and he gave her another of those beautiful smiles. Fine lines fanned out from the corners of his brown eyes, and his scent—clean and fresh, like linen, with a hint of something spicy— enveloped her. Moving towards him had been a very bad idea. But she couldn’t take it back now. It would be rude. And she was rather enjoying the proximity. “The obvious choice is chocolate,” he said. “But then, you strike me as a

gs?” “I have a sister,” she said. Beneath the table, his foot rubbed against hers. It was a slow, rhythmic touch, almost soothing. But it was hard to feel soothed by a man who set your every nerve-ending alight. “Older or younger?” He prompted. “Um… Younger. Maggie. She’s in America.” Usually, Cherry loved bragging about her sister, even when it came with the usual twinge of worry. Always, she worried about Maggie. But today, her words were as muddled as her feelings. “I mean —she goes to Harvard. She’s very clever.” “Takes after you, then?” Cherry’s brows shot up. “I’m not cle

. “It’ll save dithering. Just chocolate.” “Just chocolate it is,” he murmured. But when the cake arrived, it was a bigger slab than she’d ever seen in a middle-class cafe—places of notoriously stingy portions. And it came with two forks. CHERRY WAS LOOKING at the pair of cake forks like they’d hopped up from the table and started dancing thecancan. Ruben bit down a smile. He had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate being laughed at. He wouldn’t have thought, based on first impressions, that she’d be… like this. Direct in some ways, skittish in others. Verging on shy. Maybe she needed to get to know him. Maybe she found it easier to beat people into submission with those dimples and that cleavage than she did to just… talk. Or maybe she was as blindsided by this attraction as he was, and had less experience following her instincts. All of those explanations felt right, but he’d like to know for sure. He’d like to know her. Ruben picked up a fork—since she clearly wasn’t going to— and said, “Do you mind?” The words seemed to jerk her into action. If Cherr

nd your business,” she sniffed. “Mind my business?” “Yes. Here’s a tip: if you want to fly under the radar, try toning it down to Armani or something.” Ruben sighed. “Noted.” “So what’s up with that? Are you sponsoring the Academy?” If he wasn’t so attuned to the tone of her voice, to the tilt of her lips and the light in her dark eyes, he might have missed the tinge of disapproval in her words. But Ruben had spenttheir lunch watching her as closely as he’d watched her hips that morning. So he noticed. And he wanted to know why. “If I weren’t,” he said carefully, “would you try to persuade me?” “Persuade you?” She took another bite of cake. He watched her jaw work as she chewed. The sight should not be erotic, but apparently his libido was on the rampage today. “Convince me to join the cause,” he said. “Enlist me. Whatever.” “Ah. Um… Why, would you listen?” “To you?” Beneath the table, his ankle was hooked around hers. Almost absent-mindedly, her foot had started rubbing against him, silky and slow, like a cat. “You know I would.” “O

he slid on her coat, doing up the neat little buttons. He’d taken pity on her and pushed her shoe over, beneath the table. Neither of them mentioned the fact that he’d effectively stolen it in the first place. As they left the cozy warmth of the cafe, Ruben reached out to catch Cherry’s arm. She turned towards him, and she was so ridiculously beautiful, he almost forgot to breathe. His body screamed, Kiss her. But, for once, he managed to ignore his baser instincts. Instead, he simply said, “Two questions.” “What?” “First: you don’t think I should sponsor the Academy.” Of course, he hadn’t intended to, but she didn’t need to know that. “Why not?” She rolled her lips inwards. Shifted from one heel to another. “I don’t want to discuss that.” Fair enough. But she hadn’t denied i