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- Soooooo. I was thinking. Maybe we could meet up
for a drink or something and do this face to face?

Danny smiled. He was going to ask her the same thing
but he liked that she’d beaten him to it. She seemed like the type
of woman who could give him the thrill of the chase and give as
good as she got - exactly his type.

- Sounds great to me. When are you free?

- Well, I’ve a flight out in a few days so it’s
pretty hectic, but I could do tomorrow?

Like his grandpa said, he had to settle down sooner
or later and Danny couldn’t agree more. If nothing else, meeting up
with Claire would be fun, something to brighten his mood after
today. The idea of spending another Christmas like this one made
him feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t want to end up an old man,
alone in a flat when everyone else celebrated with friends and
family.

Next year, things would be different.

As was tradition, the West End heaved on Boxing Day
with shoppers fighting their way through the sales with sharpened
elbows and at six in the evening, the streets were still bustling
with gleeful shoppers. Claire stood on the pavement, hunching her
shoulders against the blistering cold. The Christmas streetlights
shone overhead, stretching from lamppost to lamppost, adding to the
magical air that London seemed to lend itself to every
December.

She looked up as a group of people approached and
her heart leapt to her throat until she saw that Danny wasn’t among
them. Of course he wasn’t, she was half an hour early. She was the
one to ask him to meet but nerves had kicked in, so much so that
her family kept asking what was wrong with her. She’d asked herself
the same question, too. It hadn’t been an issue when she’d met up
with Paolo in Sydney, or Will in Dubai. Why should this be any
different? Maybe it was because every time she thought of his
picture, the one of him swan diving from a cliff edge and showing
off his perfectly sculpted back, her body throbbed with an
impatience she hadn’t felt in a long time.

‘Claire?’

She looked up at the sound of the deep voice and her
stomach flipped. ‘Danny?’

He was even hotter in the flesh. His dark hair
ruffled in the wind and his eyes were big, blue and smiling. His
lips were smiling too, and they were the most kissable she’d ever
seen. She stopped gawping and leaned in for a kiss on the cheek as
a greeting, grateful for the continental gesture that had become so
commonplace in England.

‘You’re early,’ he said.

‘So are you.’ Claire grinned.

‘Well that’s because I wanted to be able to run away
if you turned out to be a fifty-year old man called Herbert. What’s
your excuse?’

Claire laughed, drinking in the soft lilt of his
accent. ‘Same. But for me you’d have been a fifty year old woman
called Ursula.’

‘My gran was called Ursula,’ he replied with a
smile. ‘Though I wouldn’t blame you for running away from her. I
used to, all the time.’

She snuck a peek at him as he looked up at the
building in front of them, taking a quick but appreciative glance
at his profile and the light coating of stubble across his jaw.

‘So, drink?’

Claire nodded and he grinned back before pushing
open the door in front of them. He’d suggested the venue and going
by its nondescript exterior, she’d assumed it was a closed office
rather than a bar. She hadn’t seen anyone going in or coming out of
it and a flicker of apprehension crossed her mind as she reminded
herself that she didn’t really know him. She’d thrown caution to
the curb in allowing him to pick the place they’d meet but when he
stood back, holding the door for her to step through into a lobby,
her nerves eased. The sleek space held four lifts and obviously
expensive artwork hung on the walls. She looked at the man sitting
the reception desk and he glanced up at them, nodding a greeting at
Danny. With his sharp, black suit and discreet earpiece, it was
clear he was some kind of security guard.

‘So, what is this place? I don’t think I’ve been
here before,’ she asked as they stepped into one of the small
lifts.

‘The Opal Bar.’ He pressed the button for level
twenty-two. ‘It’s only been open a couple of years.’

His voice wrapped itself around her and the skin on
the back of her neck tingled. The lift was small and being in the
enclosed space with him was making her heart pound. It didn’t help
when he unbuttoned his coat. His plain, black sweater hinted at the
firmness of his body underneath and jeans hung in a way that made
her want to reach over and take them straight off.

‘Oh, I forgot.’ Claire reached into her bag and took
out a small plastic tub. ‘I’ve brought you a gift. Let’s call it a
Christmas present.’

He grinned at the cupcake in the tub. ‘Ah, cheers.
I’d wondered how they’d come out.’

He looked straight at her and she fought to control
the heat creeping its way up to her face. Danny opened the tub and
held the cupcake between his thumb and forefinger, but instead of
taking a bite, he held it to her mouth instead. She smiled and took
a miniscule bite, keeping her eyes locked onto his and when he
lightly brushed his thumb against her lip to wipe away a crumb, her
pulse trip-hopped around her body.

Christ, the man was hot.

The lift doors slid open and she breathed a silent
sigh of relief. Her lip burned from where he’d touched her and, had
the lift doors not opened, chances were she would have moved in for
a kiss. She needed to keep herself together for a while longer at
least.

They stepped out into darkness for a few seconds
until Danny flicked a switch and she stared at the space around
them. Through an alcove ahead, high stools surrounded a circular
bar in the middle of the room and the light fittings hanging from
the ceiling reflected off its highly polished surface.

‘After you.’ He grinned and gestured for her to step
through the alcove.

Booths with high backed, leather seating stretched
along the narrow space beyond the bar, leading to an entire wall of
ceiling to floor glass separating the interior bar from the terrace
outside.

‘Where is everyone?’ she asked as he put his jacket
on the bar.

‘We are everyone.’ He pushed the sleeves of his
sweater up to his elbows. ‘It’s closed ‘til tomorrow.’

Claire raised an eyebrow as he stepped behind the
bar. ‘Are you allowed to do that?’

‘I dunno.’ He looked around before flashing her a
grin. ‘The boss of this place can be a real asshole sometimes, but
I won’t tell if you don’t.’

His eyes flashed mischievously as the grin held on
his face. He had dimples, right in the middle of his cheeks, and
Claire couldn’t take her eyes off them. She leaned into the bar,
resting on her forearms as he turned to the small refrigerators
behind him. God, his arse was perfection.

‘So, going by your photos I’d have said you were a
champagne kind of girl but now I’m not so sure.’ He turned around
with a bottle of Prosecco. ‘Will this do?’

Claire nodded with a smile. She didn’t like
Champagne anyway. ‘It’s perfect.’

Danny put the bottle and two glasses into a bucket,
and stepped out from behind the bar, skipping his eyes down to her
feet and back up again, scanning every inch of her body. ‘Shall we
go outside? It’ll be warm under the heaters.’

He nodded towards the doors and she shrugged off her
coat, letting it fall slowly over her shoulders to reveal her bare
arms. Danny grinned and led the way to the terrace.

‘So whereabouts in Ireland are you from?’ she asked
as he slid the door open.

‘Athenry, in County Galway. Do you know it?’

‘I’ve heard of Galway, but I’ve never been.’

If she’d have known they made them like him over
there, Athenry would have had a pin stuck to it on the huge world
map on her bedroom wall. She looked at him and lightly brushed her
body against his as she stepped out into the warmth of the heaters.
The terrace oozed sophistication with its own dedicated outdoor
bar, high tables and potted plants. She could easily picture it on
a hot, summer’s day, packed to the hilt with high flying corporate
and media types.

Danny set the bucket down as she perched onto a
high-backed stool. She crossed her legs, feeling the material of
her demure, over the knee skirt tighten around her thighs. The
movement had the desired effect when she saw his eyes flick down to
her legs as he twisted the cork on the bottle. She looked at the
muscles flexing in his forearms and wondered what she might find
under his sweater. A thrill of excitement ran through her. This was
what she liked the most - the anticipation and build up. The
swirling in her stomach was the closest she’d come to feeling
butterflies over a guy for a long time, if that’s what it was.

‘So, how was the rest of your Christmas night?’ she
asked as he poured the Prosecco.

Danny shrugged. ‘It was good. I went to the pub
after dropping my grandpa home. Some guy proposed to his girlfriend
over karaoke but he was so drunk I doubt he’d have remembered any
of it this morning.’

‘Ah, the good old drunken proposal.’ Claire grinned.
‘No good can ever come of that.’

‘Tell me about it. You wouldn’t believe the number
of times that happens. I wish I could say it was romantic in some
way, but...’

He tailed off to hand her a glass and his fingers
brushed against hers.

‘But...’ Claire tilted her head to one side. ‘You’re
sceptical?’

‘I love you a little bit and I’m a little bit
unfaithful, but I can’t be bothered to wait for something better to
come along. Will you marry me?’

‘Well, when you put it like that,’ she replied and
shook her head with a grin, ‘how could a girl refuse?’

Danny laughed. ‘Okay, I was being flippant. I just
don’t see the point unless you know it’s for real. It seems like
most people break up and make up more often than I change my
pants.’

Claire’s eyes involuntarily flicked down to his
crotch. ‘You don’t seem like the type to wear any.’

He laughed again, sending tingles down her spine.
‘You’re right, I don’t wear any.’ He tilted his glass clinked it
against hers. ‘One-nil to you. Cheers.’

She took a sip of her drink, letting the bubbles pop
at the back of her throat as her pulse sped up, knowing that he was
sitting opposite with nothing but skin under his jeans.

‘I didn’t realise we were keeping score but it’s
good to know I’m in the lead.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s fighting talk. Reckon
you can keep it up?’

‘Oh, I think so.’ Claire put the glass to her lips
and looked straight at him. ‘I’m good at keeping things up.’

He grinned and the air between them crackled. If
sexual energy could be seen, she was sure it’d be pulsing
throughout around them. It would have followed them from the
elevator, through the plush bar and out of the glass doors. The
twinkle in his blue eyes and the wicked grin on his lips was an
intoxicating mix.

‘So what else do I need to know about you, Claire?’
He asked and goose bumps pricked at her skin at the way he said her
name.

Claire shrugged. ‘I’m a fairly open book. Ask
away.’

‘Okay, but there a two rules: You have to be honest
and you can’t ask me the same questions.’

He leaned back in his stool with his legs splayed
open and he stroked a hand across his chin before tapping his
finger against his lips.

‘Let’s go straight in with the heavy stuff.’ He
leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, his eyes boring
into hers. ‘Bourbons or custard creams?’

Claire laughed and shook her head. ‘Wow, you
certainly don’t waste any time, do you? Bourbons, of course. Much
better for dunking with.’

‘Nice answer.’

‘Okay, my turn. What’s your guilty pleasure?’

‘That’s easy. A pile of buttered toast and a tea in
bed, watching re-runs of Friends on a Sunday morning.’ Danny
smiled. ‘It’s my only day off so I like a lazy start.’

Claire smiled back. She was guilty of doing the same
thing on occasion and she didn’t brush away the image of them doing
it together from her head.

‘What next?’ He frowned for a second. ‘If you could
be anyone from history, who would you be?’

‘Anne Boleyn.’

‘As in, Henry the Eighth’s wife?’

Claire nodded. ‘I know history paints her as this
scarlet woman but I think she was misunderstood. I think she was
just someone who knew what she wanted, and how to get it.’

‘Sure, I reckon you’re pretty much the same.’ Danny
grinned and clinked his glass against hers.

‘I’d say I like to try but that’d be lying. When I
play, I play to win but unlike her, I rarely lose.’ She playfully
raised an eyebrow and took another sip of her Prosecco. Slowly, she
uncrossed her legs and, as predicted, Danny watched
appreciatively.

‘I bet you do.’

Claire grinned and looked around the terrace. ‘This
is some place. It’s got a great view.’

‘It has. It’s the reason I picked this place.’

Claire didn’t react to his admission that the bar
was his. It hadn’t taken a rocket scientist to figure it out when
he’d slipped behind the bar, and she’d seen the way he’d studied
her, trying to gauge her reaction to the place.

‘Why don’t you go take a proper look?’ He nodded
towards the rail and she hopped down from the stool.

She stood, looking out at the London skyline. It was
breathtaking at the best of times but from here, it was even more
so. Ahead of her, the city spread itself out and she looked at the
blue lights on the London Eye, the white beams illuminating St
Paul’s Cathedral, and the distinctive green of The Gherkin over in
the Square Mile.

‘Well, would you look at that.’

Claire shivered at the heat of his breath on her
neck. She hadn’t even heard him move but he couldn’t have been
standing more than a few inches behind her. He pointed and she
followed the length of his arm with her eyes.