“You don’t like it?” I was surprised at her indignation at such an unsuspecting painting.
She turned her frown on me. “John Constable? I love his work. He’s quite a snob about your homeland, but he showed that landscape images are not just beautiful but also powerful. I’m just curious why a luxury building would choose a cheap recreation of a famous art piece—albeit in a rather hefty frame—rather than purchasing something unique and original by a local artist. It would definitely class up the place, and it seems that is what they’re going for. Maybe I should give the suggestion to the doorman.” She’d already taken two steps toward the door before she finished talking.
Who did that? Who had thoughts on everything—lovely thoughts and bold thoughts, on art and luxury apartment buildings—and then proceeded to share them with no inhibitions?
Who was this woman?
And what was she doing in my life?
“Audrey, why are you here?”
My question halted her task. She spun around in my direction. “Hmm?”
“Why are you here?” A simple but pressing question.
Slowly, with a subtle grin, she strode toward me, her heels clicking on the marble floor. “You invited me. Don’t you remember?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not how that went.” My eyes searched aimlessly over my shoes as I attempted to recall how we ended up there together. It all happened so quickly, my hands responding to her texts without giving my brain a chance to weigh in. “No, you lured me.”
“I lured you? How is that possible when I’m the one who has joined you on your day’s plans? It seems, Dylan Locke, that you may have lured me.”
Her expression was so convincing, I momentarily doubted myself. “No, no. I most definitely didn’t lure you. You lured me with your talk of fate and finding out what it had to do with us.”
“Kismet,” she corrected.
“Yes, that’s right. Kismet. You dangled the word out in front of me the way a fisherman dangles a—”
“Hook?” she guessed.
I narrowed my eyes. “Lure.”
Her smile widened. “That’s amazing that a simple text message could hold that much power over you. Why do you think that is, do you suppose?”
And that was the real question, more important than why she was here. The question about why I was tempting myself with something I was never going to believe in. About why her particular lure was so irresistible. The question I’d hoped she’d be able to answer because I was at a loss.
A question that wasn’t getting answered now either because the estate agent I had an appointment with was currently walking toward me with his hand stretched out.
“Mr. Locke? Jeff Jones, nice to meet you.” He finished his handshake with one hand and immediately his other passed over a business card, which I immediately pocketed without looking at. I knew everything I needed to about the man from our encounter thus far. He was a salesman, a charmer. Trendy with his trimmed beard and fitted suit. Good-looking, perhaps, but if I’d had my guess, he’d had work done. His jaw was too square. His nose too straight.
All that mattered was that he had the ability to put in a competitive offer, and the ambitious air surrounding him suggested he could.
“Sorry I’m running a tad bit late,” he went on, talking in that fast New York style I still hadn’t become accustomed to even after the years I’d lived here. “I had a closing this morning that ran long. There are no showings on the books today for this unit, though, so we’ll have plenty of time to spend in the apartment.”
His focus turned to Audrey then, and his voice suddenly shifted in tone. “Well, hello there…?”
“Audrey,” she said, offering her hand in greeting.
“It’s a pleasure, Audrey.” The smarmy way Jeff Jones held Audrey’s hand, said her name, and stared too long made me want to sock him in his too perfect nose. He was too old to be flirting with her. Jeff Jones had to be at least…
At least my age.
That realization was a punch, all right. In my gut.
And that was just a warm-up to the next blow. “Mr. Locke, I didn’t know you’d be bringing your daughter. Glad to have you both here.”
I felt my jaw drop and then lock up, frozen in horror.
At the same time, my cock stirred.
Audrey, fortunately, remained composed. Draping her arm over my shoulder, her eyes twinkled mischievously. “He wanted my opinion, didn’t you Daddy? We’re very close.”
Very funny, my scowl said. I considered correcting her until it dawned on me the situation looked better this way. As long as no one noticed the bulging of my trousers every time she addressed me with the parental term, anyway.
Shopping for a flat with a girl half my age...what was I thinking?
Perhaps she wasn’t as young as I gave her credit for.
The estate agent excused himself to grab the key from the lockbox at the security desk. As soon as he was out of earshot, I asked quietly, “How young are you exactly?”
Audrey batted her lashes in my direction. “Are you asking how old I am? I’m twenty-three.”
I nearly choked.
Nineteen years between us.
I’d lost my virginity later than I’d wanted, at the age of seventeen. If I’d knocked that woman up, our child would still be older than Audrey Lind.
It was mortifying.
The realization didn’t make me want to kiss her any less. It just gave me a sufficient amount of guilt about the desire to make kissing her again seem totally worth it.
I was still stewing about the years between us when Jeff returned and led us into the lift. He pushed the button for the thirty-second floor, chattering on about the building amenities and the maintenance upkeep.
I was barely listening.
“Are you okay?” Audrey whispered.
“Just thinking about how old I feel next to you.” That wasn’t exactly true. I was lamenting the difference in our ages, but she didn’t make me feel old. She made me feel quite young. Younger than I deserved to feel. Her youth was contagious.
“Do you want to know how I feel next to you?” She linked her arm around mine. “Bold.”
Bold. Jesus. I felt like I needed to loosen my tie, except I wasn’t wearing one.
The lift opened on our floor, and Jeff Jones started out the door and down the hall, not paying much attention to us as we followed. Thank God. Since I still had Audrey’s hand on my bicep. Her palm felt warm even through my jumper and the button-up underneath. Like a hot iron. Like a brand from the devil reminding me she might look like an angel but she’d been sent from hell.
Gently, I shrugged her off and doubled my steps to catch up to our estate agent.
My estate agent. There was no our here.
Jeff continued promoting the apartment’s highlights as he unlocked the door and stood aside for us to enter. Instantly, I was pleased—both with the condition of the unit and the opportunity to concentrate on something other than the young woman attempting to rock my world. I was familiar with the layout of the two-bedrooms in this particular building. An acquaintance from my New York days had lived here, and wanting to purchase the same for myself, I’d diligently watched the realty notices from London until something came up. It was small in comparison to my flat in England, but exactly what I had in mind. Clean, simple. Well laid out. On property, there was a gym, a pool, billiards tables, a large courtyard. A gem in the city and for a decent price.
I opened the foyer cupboard and found it empty, save for a few stray hangers. Before I could close it again, Audrey was there, peering inside.
“Nice, sturdy bar,” she said, tugging on the garment rod. She unbuttoned her coat and peeled it off.
Jeff Jones, gentleman that he was, immediately appeared at her side to hang it up.
I stood dumbstruck, seeing for the first time the entirety of Audrey’s outfit. She was wearing a wrap dress. A sexy, fitted thing with only a tie separating her underclothing from the eyes of the world. Kill me now.