International Player(24)

“Noah,” she admonished, dipping her gaze to the floor.

“I mean it. Really beautiful.”

“Well,” she said, glancing at me. “You don’t scrub up so bad yourself.” She lifted her hand as if she was going to touch me, then snatched it away.

“We should get going,” she said. “We don’t want to be late.”

I guided her down the stone steps to the car, my hand in the small of her back. As I touched her, she glanced at me. “Truly stunning.”

I needed to remember this wasn’t a date. She wasn’t my date. We were friends. I was just helping her out. I was here to calm her nerves and nothing more.

I held open the car door and took her hand as she climbed in.

“Oh, hi,” I heard her say to the driver.

I rounded the boot and took a seat next to her. “This is Bruce.” The London traffic was a nightmare, so I’d given in and hired a driver.

“We’ve just met. Are you just working for Noah for the evening?” she asked.

I tried not to wince.

“No, Miss, I started full time last week,” Bruce said as he pulled out.

Truly nodded and her gaze flitted to me. “You have a full-time driver?”

I shrugged. “It makes sense.”

“Will you marry me?” She giggled. “It’s a complete dream not to have to deal with public transport in London. What else can you opt out of now that you’re rich? Do you have to stand in line at the bank with us muggles or can you hire someone to do that, too?”

She was teasing but frankly, wasn’t far off base. My assistant would probably be the person who queued up for something. “If only you knew—you’d want to do more than marry me.”

She blushed and pushed at my shoulders. “You’re meant to be helping me focus.”

“I’m distracting you. Stopping you from freaking out.” In truth, she was distracting me. She’d always thrown me a little off guard—the way she’d turned me down at the wedding, the way we’d hung out together as friends before I’d left for New York. She’d had no expectations or demands of me, and the way she was so open and honest was like oxygen.

Truly was so unlike any woman I’d ever spent time with. Apart from anything else, I wasn’t sleeping with her. Maybe our lack of physical relationship was the reason I liked her so much. I couldn’t help but wonder whether she’d be more guarded in bed than she was during our conversations. I’d like to think she would be like she always was, like clear, fresh water—honest, refreshing and completely genuine. “Although I mean it, you look beautiful tonight. That dress is . . .” Her soft breasts peeked over the top of the bodice, and as she sat, light layers of fabric parted to reveal her bronzed thigh. Jesus, that dress had magic powers.

“Abigail made me buy it.”

“Well, I’m glad she did.”

A little ridge appeared between her eyes as she frowned. Was she as confused as I was? When I’d first laid eyes on Truly, we’d been in church at Rob and Abigail’s wedding. She seemed to glide in, unaware of all the eyes on her, as if she’d just assumed everyone would be totally focused on her sister. Perhaps that was why she’d been so unbothered by the attention. Truly didn’t seem to realize that however attractive Abigail was, she was just as beautiful. More so because she was so unaware of it. Abigail was a thousand women I’d met in London and New York—confident, well groomed, gym fit, and totally aware of the effect she had on men. Truly was just as beautiful but unique and completely unaware of how gorgeous she was. She was also completely and utterly . . . interesting. It was a quality I’d never seen as sexy until meeting Truly.

“Here we are,” Bruce said as he pulled up to the hotel where the awards were taking place.

“Ready?” I asked, turning to Truly.

“Not even a little bit. Can we skip this part and go and do tequila shots in some twenty-four hour bar in the City?”

“Nope.”

Her entire body sagged as if she’d really been thinking I’d say yes. Then she giggled and the sound connected right to my cock.

“I tell you what, I’ll take you for tequila shots afterward if you make it through without a panic attack.”

She shrugged. “Sounds fair, although you know that technically it will be one tequila shot. You know I can’t drink. But it’s incentive enough. Let’s do this.”

By the time I’d reached her side of the car, she was already halfway out. “Let me take your bag at least,” I said as she refused my hand while trying to negotiate the step down.

“Thanks,” she said. “These shoes are . . .”

“Sexy?” I suggested as she stepped onto the road.

“What is with you tonight?” she asked, nudging me in the arm with her evening bag. “Stop it with your plan to distract me so I don’t get nervous.”

I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay, no more distracting you.” Distraction hadn’t been in my plan. I’d just forgotten how beautiful she was, how attracted to her I was, and it was showing. I liked the way her brain worked, how she didn’t miss anything that was going on around her, and I especially liked how she never held back how she felt.

“It’s working.” She smiled. “But knock it off.” She scooped up the front of her dress and walked toward the hotel lobby. “I have to stay focused or I’m going to forget the bloody speech.”