All Bets Are On

‘Oh, for crying out loud, you and your lists! You can’t possibly be serious. This isn’t the office—this is the real world. You can’t run every facet of your life that way. It won’t work.’

‘It can’t hurt. How hard can it be? All I have to do is go on a few dates.’

‘While not falling for him. What about that chiselled face and super-fit body? The broad shoulders you told me about? You can’t backtrack now and tell me you don’t find him attractive.’

‘OK, he is attractive,’ she conceded, rolling her eyes. ‘But with his track record, falling for him is the last thing I’m going to do.’

Her mind was running with the idea now, trying to get it off the ground.

‘I could take it step by step. How does a player behave on a first date? How long does it take him to call or text? That kind of thing.’

‘When does he go for a first kiss? How long does he wait before he tries to get you into bed?’ Tilly said.

Sudden heat curled up through Alice’s body and pooled softly in her stomach at the thought. Since it had been three years since she’d had sex she cut her stupid overreacting body some slack and ignored it.

‘I wasn’t thinking so much about the physical side of dating,’ she said through gritted teeth.

‘Well, you’d better get started.’

Tilly jumped down from the counter and retrieved a bottle of wine from the fridge.

‘Because you can bet whatever you like that the physical side of dating is exactly what he’s thinking about.’

* * *

Harry found himself at the office brutally early for a change. Waking early, he had found sleep shoved aside by thoughts of uptight Alice with her work obsession and her challenging attitude. He wasn’t about to be put off by a bit of procrastination. He sought her out at her desk, certain that she would be there despite the crushingly early hour, because she always was. He was right. Perfectly groomed as always, a takeaway coffee on one side of the pristine desk.

She glanced up as he approached.

‘That drink,’ she said, before he had the chance to get back in and start persuading. ‘I’ve thought it over and I’d like to go, if the offer’s still on.’

Bet your life the offer was still on.

He knew once he got her out and alone with him that he could convert the situation into whatever he wanted it to be. Yet the expected stab of triumph didn’t for some reason materialise. After yesterday’s coldness, the sudden change of heart was unexpected and he didn’t miss the cautious tone of her voice or the way she fidgeted with the pen in her hand. He was struck again by how appealing he found her. Had she really not been out with a guy for three years? Despite the severe business dress and scraped-back hair, she was undeniably pretty and smart. What the hell had happened to her to make her withdraw like that?

‘’Course it’s still on. Let me know your address and I’ll pick you up.’

She held up a hand.

‘Please, let me finish. First of all, we need to talk terms.’

Not such an easy victory after all, then.

‘Terms?’

‘Yes,’ she said. She gave him a businesslike smile across the desk, pen twiddling between her fingers.

He felt a spark of amusement.

‘You’re going out on a date, not buying a car.’

She pursed her lips. He tried to drag his eyes away; the soft fullness of them was just delectable.

‘True,’ she said. ‘But in my opinion there’d be a lot less heartbreak and the divorce rate would be a lot lower if people just took the time to negotiate terms a bit. Get it all sorted up front so everyone knows where they stand and there’s no danger of misunderstandings. Ergo, no one gets hurt.’ She pointed her pen at him. ‘Someone like you could benefit a lot from terms, I think.’

‘Someone like me?’

‘Yes.’ She looked up at him. ‘A, you know, player.’ She dropped her eyes quickly away from his and looked down at her desk.

‘Is that what I am?’ he said, biting back a smile.

She didn’t look up.

‘Did you or did you not hand back a pair of earrings to Arabella yesterday, pointing out that she’d left it at your place and making it clear she wouldn’t be visiting you there again, thereby causing her to take sick leave for the day?’

Was this for real?

He inclined his head cautiously. ‘OK, maybe I did.’

She nodded triumphantly.

‘And so we have terms.’

A flash of exasperation made him wonder whether she might drive him nuts just over the course of an hour or so, let alone a series of dates. Was this really worthwhile for a bit of a laugh and a few hundred quid? She took high maintenance to the next level.

Higher maintenance.

Then his eyes dipped down again to her full lower lip and the determined look in the dark brown eyes and unexpected heat began to burn low in his abdomen.

It occurred to him that maybe just what he needed after the last month or so was an antidote to pushover. So she was difficult. So what? There were half a dozen girls he could call up right now who would fall at his feet. He couldn’t be less interested in any of them. It seemed that wasn’t what piqued his attention these days. Not any more. Easy was just...well, too damned easy. And easy led to a lot of hassle when it ended.

‘Go on,’ he said.

‘Great!’ She smiled up at him. ‘Then let’s be clear. This is just a few dates. Nothing serious. I won’t be jumping into bed with you.’ She held his gaze briefly before dropping her eyes. ‘I’m not that kind of girl.’

So this was her setting up ground rules? He bit the inside of his mouth to suppress a grin.

‘Sounds risk-free,’ he said.

‘It is.’

‘Unless you fall for me.’

‘That isn’t going to happen. You are the exact opposite of the type of man I’m looking for. In the long term, I mean.’

She took a sip of her coffee.

‘When you’re back up to speed, so to speak.’

She nodded. ‘Exactly. I’ve had enough of guys like you to last me a lifetime. I need a keeper.’

‘A keeper,’ he repeated.

‘Yes. The polar opposite of player. Treats you with respect and isn’t commitment-phobic.’

‘I’ll treat you with respect,’ he protested.

‘And the commitment part?’

He shrugged.

‘Maybe thinking that far ahead just takes all the fun out of it.’

She gave him a dismissive smile that told him she couldn’t agree less.

‘I just want to be clear from the outset that this isn’t going to get serious.’

If by serious she meant physical, he was confident he could turn that around. No need to argue the point now though—let her have it her way.

He held his hands up.

‘Suits me fine.’

She examined her fingernails.

‘You never know, I might even be able to give you a few pointers if you like. On how to treat women...you know...properly. On where you’re going wrong.’

For a moment he couldn’t quite believe his ears. Was she actually suggesting he needed dating advice?

‘Where I’m going wrong? You’re the one who’s spent the last three years in the dating desert, not me.’

‘That was by choice. I could have dated—I just didn’t want to.’

‘Why not?’

She dropped her eyes from his.

‘None of your business,’ she said.

Something must have happened. She’d been dumped badly, maybe cheated on. He wasn’t about to press the point right now though, not when he almost had the date in the bag.

‘No offence,’ he said, ‘but I don’t need any pointers, thanks very much.’

She shrugged.

‘Please yourself. But you can’t deny some of your behaviour is a bit...’

‘Detached?’

‘Brutal. We’ve probably lost weeks of productivity with the amount of sick leave your broken hearts have caused around here.’

‘That isn’t my fault,’ he protested. ‘I make it clear from the outset I’m not interested in settling down. Can I be blamed when people read more into it than that?’

‘We should get on perfectly, then. Neither of us wants anything serious.’

He held her gaze deliberately.

‘You never know, you might find a player is more fun after all.’

He caught the blush again, high on her cheekbones. Nice.

‘We’ll see,’ she said. She looked back down at her notepad.

He watched her transfer her focus back to her computer, eager to get back into professional mode, thinking she was in full control. So the date was his. First stage of the mission accomplished. If she wanted to think of it as some platonic outing then he was prepared to agree to it.

Agreeing to it didn’t mean honouring it.

Winning the bet required getting her into his bed, not just taking her out. That would take time and effort and it was going to be interesting. He wasn’t about to fail before he’d even begun.

‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Eleven-thirty. Let me know your address.’

She snapped her eyes back up.

‘Eleven-thirty? In the morning?’

She looked wrong-footed, and he grinned.

‘How long has it been—three years? You’re obviously stuck in a rut of dinner-and-cinema.’

‘But I thought we were going out for a drink.’

‘We are,’ he said, enjoying keeping her on her toes. ‘Coffee. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

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