Read Online All Bets Are On by Charlotte Phillips - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charlotte Phillips
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physical as quickly as possible. Remember his main aim is not to get to know you but to get you into bed.
* * *
Harry was acutely aware of her next to him, the car feeling cosier this time because he’d closed the roof and put the heating on. Too damn cold having the wind pelt at you when you were wearing damp clothes. He could see by the way she was tautly upright, sitting forwards in her seat and staring through the windscreen that she was on edge. Just the way he wanted it. With his track record she’d be expecting him to leap on her like some predator, if not when he stopped the car then outside her front door. And let’s face it, the usual Harry Stephens practice wouldn’t be to make it to the door before he tested the water with a first kiss. Get it in right away and by the time you made it up the garden path you’d teased them into such a frenzy that you had a damn good chance of talking them into bed.
Which was the exact reason he wouldn’t be doing any of those things.
The usual Harry Stephens practice wouldn’t work on her. If he was going to get Alice into his bed, Alice with her player of an ex-boyfriend lurking in her past, he needed to prove there was more to him than a quick lay. He’d been doing pretty well on that front with his out-of-the-ordinary yet still intimate, carefully thoughtful choice of date, until the damn boat attendant had given him away. He needed to gain some ground back now, keep her guessing. And so acting to type wasn’t an option. Plan of action: keep her hanging, then go all out to sweep her off her feet with the second date. By then, she’d be falling at his feet.
He wasn’t about to let the behaviour of some guy in the depths of her past screw things up for him now.
Some guy like him.
No, he refused to accept that. His conscience was clear. She knew perfectly well this wasn’t going to lead to hearts and butterflies, with the pair of them skipping off into the sunset. They both knew the only question between them was how far down the line it would go before one of them bailed; he just needed to make sure they made it to bed before that happened. The thought of reaching that point was slowly filling him with more and more anticipation as he got to know her, with her tightly wound attitude and the occasional glimpse of what fun she might be if she let her guard down. Unwinding her would be an experience to relish. And since she’d be expecting him to push things along as quickly as he could, now was his chance to buck her expectations and grab the upper hand.
* * *
Alice sat, hands bunched in her lap, stomach a squirming knot. She fixed her eyes on the road as he drove back to her house. On edge because she knew perfectly well what was coming next. She knew because she knew him. Her thoughts touched briefly on Arabella, one of many one-night stands. She knew his modus operandi. Simon had been just the same. No qualms about moving things forwards quickly.
Somewhere between this car pulling up outside her terraced house and the short walk up the path to the front door, she could expect some move from him to kick them up to the next level. He would try to invite himself in for coffee—probable—or he might even go in for a kiss the moment he turned off the engine—toe-curlingly, spine-zingingly possible.
The bet crossed her mind, never far from the surface of her thoughts. She was aware that if he was involved in that she would be playing right into his hands by letting him kiss her.
But if she was to keep to her plans to observe his behaviour, she had to let this happen. And no putting a stop to it halfway through because London’s most eligible bachelor might have money staked on getting her into bed. She still intended to end this whole thing before they got to that point—she could let this progress further without risking the stupid bet pool.
He didn’t need to know that it meant nothing, that it was just part of an experiment, that it most certainly
* * *
Harry was acutely aware of her next to him, the car feeling cosier this time because he’d closed the roof and put the heating on. Too damn cold having the wind pelt at you when you were wearing damp clothes. He could see by the way she was tautly upright, sitting forwards in her seat and staring through the windscreen that she was on edge. Just the way he wanted it. With his track record she’d be expecting him to leap on her like some predator, if not when he stopped the car then outside her front door. And let’s face it, the usual Harry Stephens practice wouldn’t be to make it to the door before he tested the water with a first kiss. Get it in right away and by the time you made it up the garden path you’d teased them into such a frenzy that you had a damn good chance of talking them into bed.
Which was the exact reason he wouldn’t be doing any of those things.
The usual Harry Stephens practice wouldn’t work on her. If he was going to get Alice into his bed, Alice with her player of an ex-boyfriend lurking in her past, he needed to prove there was more to him than a quick lay. He’d been doing pretty well on that front with his out-of-the-ordinary yet still intimate, carefully thoughtful choice of date, until the damn boat attendant had given him away. He needed to gain some ground back now, keep her guessing. And so acting to type wasn’t an option. Plan of action: keep her hanging, then go all out to sweep her off her feet with the second date. By then, she’d be falling at his feet.
He wasn’t about to let the behaviour of some guy in the depths of her past screw things up for him now.
Some guy like him.
No, he refused to accept that. His conscience was clear. She knew perfectly well this wasn’t going to lead to hearts and butterflies, with the pair of them skipping off into the sunset. They both knew the only question between them was how far down the line it would go before one of them bailed; he just needed to make sure they made it to bed before that happened. The thought of reaching that point was slowly filling him with more and more anticipation as he got to know her, with her tightly wound attitude and the occasional glimpse of what fun she might be if she let her guard down. Unwinding her would be an experience to relish. And since she’d be expecting him to push things along as quickly as he could, now was his chance to buck her expectations and grab the upper hand.
* * *
Alice sat, hands bunched in her lap, stomach a squirming knot. She fixed her eyes on the road as he drove back to her house. On edge because she knew perfectly well what was coming next. She knew because she knew him. Her thoughts touched briefly on Arabella, one of many one-night stands. She knew his modus operandi. Simon had been just the same. No qualms about moving things forwards quickly.
Somewhere between this car pulling up outside her terraced house and the short walk up the path to the front door, she could expect some move from him to kick them up to the next level. He would try to invite himself in for coffee—probable—or he might even go in for a kiss the moment he turned off the engine—toe-curlingly, spine-zingingly possible.
The bet crossed her mind, never far from the surface of her thoughts. She was aware that if he was involved in that she would be playing right into his hands by letting him kiss her.
But if she was to keep to her plans to observe his behaviour, she had to let this happen. And no putting a stop to it halfway through because London’s most eligible bachelor might have money staked on getting her into bed. She still intended to end this whole thing before they got to that point—she could let this progress further without risking the stupid bet pool.
He didn’t need to know that it meant nothing, that it was just part of an experiment, that it most certainly
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