Red Skye at Night by Ashe Barker Read Free Book Online Page B

at me, a warm glint in his eyes. Oh yes, now is definitely the time.
    “I won’t sleep with you.”
    There, I said it. It needed saying, and I said it. To his credit, Harry hardly turns a hair. He lifts his cup, takes a sip, then places it carefully back on the saucer.
    “That’s a blow. Still, I guess I’ll manage. I suppose a fuck’s out of the question.”
    I spit out my latte, showering the map that Harry has opened at the Newcastle page. He snatches it up and shakes it.
    “Jesus, girl. You’re making a mess.”
    “A mess! You talk to me about…” I’m gasping and wheezing, forced to abandon any attempt at conversation for a few moments. Harry pats my back, solicitous in his concern having first seen to the safety of his precious map. At last, with some considerable effort, I’m able to continue. “You can’t just say things like that.”
    “Can I not? I thought, since you brought it up… Personally I would never have dreamed of being so indelicate.” He returns to his seat and inspects his coffee, no doubt for any sign of stray latte.
    “It wasn’t. I mean I just…”
    “You have a dirty mind, Miss Shepherd. I’m shocked. Fancy you wanting to sleep with me. We only met yesterday. Still, I’m flattered.”
    “I do not want to sleep with you.”
    “So why mention it then? Have I propositioned you?”
    “No, but…” I heave in another deep breath, my throat still raw. “But, you were looking at me.”
    “I’ve been looking at you all day. I’m looking at that sheep over there but I’ve no intention of shagging it.”
    “Now you’re just being crude. What I meant was, I’m coming to Scotland with you, but just as your driver. Nothing else. I just wanted there to be no misunderstandings. No awkwardness if, if…” I fall silent, my face burning. I just know my cheeks are bright crimson and I can only blame so much of that on my near death experience with the latte. I study my drink as though it’s absolutely the most fascinating item I have ever beheld.
    The silence lengthens. I’m determined not to speak first. I seem to remember my gran had a saying—‘Least said soonest mended.’ That seems appropriate here, so I keep my mouth firmly shut.
    “Hope, I just thought you might like to know, in case you were wondering, which of course if you say you weren’t…” Harry cracks first, or perhaps he always intended to have the last word. He pauses.
    I remain silent.
    He takes that as his invitation to continue, “I find you stunning. Under the sexless hoodies and awful baseball cap, you are quite lovely. I’ve had a more or less permanent erection to contend with since I first saw you at the airport, but I firmly accept that’s my problem, not yours. Still, if you should ever feel minded to reconsider your position on sleeping with me, that would be very welcome news. For now, though, would you just look at me? Please.”
    He called me stunning. Quite lovely. Obedient, I look up into his gentle smile. Perversely, and despite his truly wonderful compliments, I immediately I latch onto his remarks about my clothes.
    “My hoody isn’t sexless, and my cap’s practical. It keeps the sun out of my eyes when I’m driving.”
    “The thing’s completely shapeless and about nine sizes too big. It swamps you. If you need sunglasses, I’ll get you some. Take them both off. Please.”
    “I…”
    “Please.”
    “You’ll stare at me.”
    “I’ll stare at you anyway. I think we’ve established that. Please, Hope. The cap first.”
    He’s saying please and asking me nicely, but it still feels like a command. I find myself tugging my cap forward and crumpling it in my hands. Harry leans across to ruffle my hair, cropped short into a layered, easy sort of style. It’s a light blonde and very thick. In the past I’ve worn it longer and found it sort of attracts a lot of notice. I prefer to blend in so tend to play things down. Short hair is good, hidden under a scruffy little cap even