LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

need a pickaxe to excavate Ash’s psyche.

       No. Focus on the sex. Control that.

      What was she thinking?

      No more sex.

      Her voice squeezed past strangled vocal cords. ‘How are you two friends? You’re such a lovely, warm person.’ Ben and Ash had known each other a long time. Essie’s stomach clenched. She’d gatecrashed a long-standing friendship with her ill-judged fling. But it was over now.

      Ben chuckled and then went silent. ‘He wasn’t always so...uncompromising. It’s not my story to tell, but let’s just say he was badly hurt by an ex.’

      Something they shared in common.

      ‘It’s left him with trust issues that make him a bit cynical.’

       Cynical. Controlled to the point of snapping.

      Of course a broken love affair would be to blame. Essie knew both first-hand and professionally that only relationships had the emotional power to wreak such long-lasting havoc. The psychologist in her longed to probe Ash’s secrets in light of this new clue, her resolve to ignore him stretched paper thin.

      The least she could do, for Ben’s sake, was try to give the exasperating man the benefit of the doubt professionally while giving him a wide berth personally. Ben deserved better than returning from his business trip to find his partner and his manager at each other’s throats.

      Perhaps, with a little subtle digging, she could help him deal with whatever held him back. Because if she knew anything, she knew Ash Jacob was on the run from something. Not a crime...more like a battered heart. She knew the signs—she’d spent years seeing them in the mirror. And she preferred to divert attention to other people’s dysfunctional relationships than focus on her own.

      The idea that Ash might be pining for a lost love left a bad taste in her mouth, one without an explanation. A change of subject. ‘I’ll have to speak to you some other time. Josh your star barman is due any minute.’

      With her hollow assurances echoing in her head, and her mind racing with Ben’s cryptic confession, she ended the call to her brother just as a text came in.

      Josh had arrived.

      Essie rushed to the rear entrance to welcome the twenty-one-year-old classics student. They headed to the bar and were halfway through introductions when Ash joined them without being invited.

      Essie froze mid-sentence. Her body zinged from relaxed to nerve-tingling awareness.

      Josh was handsome in that trendy, glasses-and-beard kind of way. But the mere presence of Ash in the space—his imposing height, intense, bright blue stare and commanding demeanour—shunted the room temperature to stifling. She couldn’t even waft out the pheromones before they had chance to hijack her brain again and enslave her until she started clawing at his sublime suit.

      Before she could question his presence, Ash stuck out his hand and introduced himself to Josh. ‘I’m Ash Jacob, co-owner.’ He flicked a curt nod at Essie and took a seat at the bar. ‘Carry on.’

      Carry on? Carry on? How was she supposed to do that when the mere sight of him decked out like the sort of lawyer she’d never be able to afford fried all her neuronal impulses not directly relayed to her lady parts and robbed her saliva-making capabilities?

      And sitting in on Josh’s orientation? He hadn’t issued an idle threat or exaggerated last night. He didn’t trust her. He intended to watch her every move in case she put a foot wrong and committed some sackable offence. She bristled. As if she’d ever do anything to jeopardise her brother’s enterprise. Did he think she’d put her hand in the till or help herself to the vodka?

       Jerk.

      All her good intentions to make peace with him, to help him, fled. She’d prove to him that, not only was she one hundred per cent invested in this club, but she could employ similar levels of self-restraint to the ones he’d shown.

      She was dreaming if she believed they could be friends—the sexual-attraction barrier loomed in the way like an immovable boulder worthy of Stonehenge. But that didn’t mean she had to act on her...urge. Again.

      She led Josh behind the bar, seeking inspiration or at least a distraction from the persistent throb between her legs. How could Ash Jacob’s brand of sex be so addictive? She’d only had one little taste...one and a half. He was orgasm nicotine and her poor brain’s pleasure centres had taken a massive hit. No wonder she was reeling...

      ‘Ben said you have lots of past experience so feel free to set up the bar area as works best for you.’ The words squeaked past her constricted throat and she bent to slide a box of spirits out of the way.

      Josh chatted away, filling the stilted silence with his relevant work experience and his ideas for making the bar space work.

      She barely heard a word. Too aware of Ash scraping his keen eyes over her while his mouth formed a mildly amused smirk.

      But, oh, what talent that mouth possessed. He should forget about law—his oral skills were seriously wasted in the boardroom. She’d never been so thoroughly kissed, nibbled, licked... Her nipples chafed against her bra and her legs grew restless, desperate to rub together to ease the ache at their juncture.

      Sensing a pause in Josh’s speech, Essie forced her mind away from Mr Jacob, orgasm whisperer.

      ‘What about cocktails? Could you create a house cocktail, something unique, associated only with us?’ She’d made that last bit up on the spur of the moment. She seen it done at other clubs, and it matched the philosophy Ben had for The Yard.

      Josh answered and Essie busied her hands with straightening a perfectly aligned row of shot glasses as a substitute for drooling over Ash, who’d narrowed his eyes and begun idly rubbing his lower lip with his thumb and forefinger while he listened and observed.

      Forget drooling—she was half tempted to see Josh promptly on his way and ride Ash right where he sat. Or drop to her knees, release him from his sophisticated trousers and swallow him whole. Wipe that smug, self-satisfied grin off his face. Show him she could rile him up as easily, effectively and thoroughly as he did her.

      No. They’d been there, done that. The sex was over. She’d humiliated herself enough.

      Time to focus on her job and on Ben.

      That was the relationship that required her energy. A rewarding sibling bond, family, longevity. Something she’d craved her whole life. After all, she’d put her beloved blog, her future career on partial hiatus just to work alongside her brother. And who knew how long he’d stay in London? If he moved back to New York, the opportunity to build family ties, to be a part of each other’s daily lives, would be severely compromised.

      Her stomach pinched as if she’d sucked one of the lemons sitting on the gleaming bar in a glass bowl. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to set up and familiarise yourself with everything.’

      Josh smiled and started unpacking the box of spirits.

      Essie rounded the bar and Ash swivelled on his bar stool, the creak of leather drawing her attention to him spreading his thighs wider.

      Man-spreading?

      Staking his claim as the dominant male in the room?

      When she looked up from his crotch, he held her gaze, one eyebrow raised in challenge as if he knew the flighty zigzagging of her earlier thoughts and their X-rated bent.

      This was impossible. How was she expected to get anything done when he hovered nearby, watching her every move, tying her into sexually frustrated knots with just a quirk of his brow and some male posturing to which her qualifications and knowledge of body language should render her immune?

      She turned a sickly sweet smile on Ash. ‘Mr Jacob, do you have any questions for Josh?’

      ‘No.’ Ash rose to his feet. ‘But I will speak with

Скачать книгу