Love in London by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Fifteen

Gabby

“His face, though,” I say, shaking my head. I still can’t believe it all really happened. Somehow, talking about it again makes it more real. Like if I say it out loud and Oz agrees with me, it must have actually happened to both of us and not just in my imagination.

“I’m sure he’s going to see worse – or get up to worse, himself,” Oz grinned. “He’s a university student, after all.”

That brings me down towards earth a little more. I wonder if all students are like that. If Oz expects that I should be like that. He already knows I’m a virgin now, which is one thing out of the way, but…

“Your main courses,” the waiter says, interrupting us and making me jump. I didn’t even see him walking over to our table. I guess I was too wrapped up in the conversation – and in my own nerves.

Part of me thinks we should just do this thing now. Because if we don’t, maybe overnight he’ll realize how young I am and how I’m not at all right for him.

I wish I could shake these fears, but they just keep coming back. Because I’m so much younger than him. Because I’m so inexperienced. Because… Well, because, just look at him. After the way he made me feel earlier, I can’t imagine that he doesn’t have a line of women coming out of his door every morning just wanting to get to know him better.

And what possible competition could I be?

“This looks delicious,” Oz says, breaking me out of my thoughts again. I manage to smile and nod, picking up my knife and fork.

“It does,” I say, with some relief. I’m glad I managed to convince him to come to a bit less of an upscale place. It doesn’t make me feel as bad that he’s paying for everything – though I still feel bad. But he wouldn’t hear of me using my vacation money to pay for dinner, even when I pointed out that I saved a day’s meal yesterday.

“Not as delicious as you, though,” Oz says, putting the first bite of food in his mouth and chewing it through a roguish smile.

I almost dropped my knife and fork.

He laughed at me once he’d swallowed his bite, reaching over to brush his fingers over the back of my hand and then going back to his food. It was such a familiar gesture, a loving touch, the kind of thing I hadn’t at all expected. It was intimate. It made my breath catch in my throat. I start to eat my meal slowly, praying for my heart rate to return to normal at some point so I didn’t feel so much like I was going to die.

Of happiness, probably.

“What are we doing after this?” I ask, just to try and return the conversation to something normal. Well, okay, not normal. Because the question, and the meaning behind it, has my heart racing in a new way. Like I have no control over anything in my body anymore. The thought of spending more time with him – of going to bed with him – almost makes me want to explode.

“I’ll take you back to your hotel,” he says, with a gleam in his eye. “And then I’ll head home.”

I pout slightly, finishing off my bite of food before I answer. It’s good, just like he said. Maybe not as good as Marco’s food, but given that it was the best I’ve ever tasted, it’s kind of to be expected. “Alone?”

“Yes, alone,” he says, half-laughing. “Who else would I be going back with?”

“Well...” I start, about to offer myself up as a prime example.

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he says, his voice a low growl that catches me by surprise. “I’m trying to be good. You’re going to tempt me.”

“Why isn’t that good?” I ask. “Why not tonight?”

“I told you,” he says. “I want to make it special for you. That means tomorrow, we make it special.”

“I have a tour in the morning,” I protest.

“I know, I know,” he says. “But after your tour in the morning – which I’m going to come with you for, by the way – we can do something else.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Something something?”

“A surprise something,” he says, rolling his eyes but still grinning. “I mean it. It’s going to be the most memorable night of your life. And that starts earlier on in the day. We have to build up to it. I’m taking this very seriously. It’s my duty to make sure your first experience is everything it should be – and more.”

I can’t help but look at him and know, just know, that it will be. That it would have been if we’d done it in that closet, or in the waiting room before the tour guide burst in. Oz doesn’t need to do anything else to make it special. He just has to be Oz, the man of my dreams and fantasies. The one I’ve been crushing on ever since I knew what a man was. And he does that just fine.

“Alright,” I concede at last, with a sigh. “But I’ll miss you tonight.” I almost hold my breath after the words leave my mouth, wondering if I’ve gone too far. Am I coming on too strong? Am I going to end up putting him off after all? I sound like a lovesick teenager, not a sexy femme fatale.

“Me, too,” he says, putting my fears at rest. “But I have to do it this way. If I don’t – if we stay together somewhere tonight, even if we’re in different rooms – I won’t be able to hold myself back. I’ll have to find you and have my way with you, and that would ruin all my plans.”

I think about it for a second, and then open my mouth to reply.

“No,” he says, holding up a hand and shaking his head. “You’re incorrigible. Stop trying to tempt me, woman. I’m making it special for you, and that’s that.”

I can’t help but smile as I return my attention to my food.

When we finish our meal, it’s a bittersweet kind of feeling. On the one hand, I know that he’s determined, and the only way to make this all happen is for him to leave me for the night. He’s too stubborn to let me have my way tonight. He has to be. There’s no way he would have got to where he is today, and be so well-respected in business if he was a pushover who could be tempted into breaking his promises.

On the other hand, though, I really wish we could stay together a little longer. Every moment with him feels amazing, and I don’t ever want them to stop.

Which, inevitably, just brings me back to the realization that this all has an expiration date, just one week. And we’ve already used up two of those days. We only have five left.

So when he kisses me sweetly at my door and then walks away as fast as he can, like he can’t trust himself if he doesn’t, it’s bittersweet again. Because watching him walk away and knowing how much he wants me is pretty amazing.

But on the other hand, I don’t want to waste a single second – and I can feel them slipping through my fingers like gold dust already.