Hot Single Docs: Blinded By The Boss. Amy Andrews

their friends that Edward was the cold fish they’d always marked him down as being.

      She nodded. ‘My first love was Isaac’s father. That didn’t work out too well.’

      ‘But you loved him once...’ The words almost choked Edward.

      ‘You know they say that love is blind?’ She looked up at him and he nodded. ‘Well, I don’t think so. I think that real love sees everything.’

      ‘Do you think you can really ever see everything about someone?’

      ‘I don’t know. In the absence of any substantive evidence either way, I’ll have to say that it’s just a theory. But they say that true love lasts, and I don’t love him now.’ Her mouth twisted, as if the joke was really on her.

      Something inside him raged in bitter triumph. The impulse to tear Charlotte’s ex limb from limb de-escalated to wanting to give him a more minor, if acutely painful, set of injuries. If she didn’t care about him any more then Edward could live with that.

      ‘You can’t regret all of it. Isaac...’

      ‘Isaac’s the best thing that ever happened to me.’ She laid a finger on his shoulder, as if alerting him to something. ‘Good things do come from bad.’

      ‘If you make them.’

      Charlotte had that ability. As for himself... Nothing good or bad had come from his time with Kathy. Just a lingering doubt about whether he really could ever commit to anyone. After everything that had happened today that doubt suddenly seemed to matter a great deal.

      She was looking steadily at him. That silent interrogation which he found so difficult to withstand. Why didn’t she just ask?

      ‘How long were you and Kathy together?’

      ‘Three years.’

      She nodded. Seemed to be about to ask more, and then didn’t. That was as well, really. The nagging feeling of failure whenever Kathy’s name was mentioned made him uncomfortable.

      ‘So we’re two of a kind, then.’ She gave a little sigh.

      ‘What makes you say that?’ Charlotte was warm, bubbly—everyone knew without even thinking about it that there was nothing she didn’t know about emotional commitment.

      ‘Both still waiting for the right one to come along.’

      It felt as if the right one was sitting next to him. But that must be another mistake, because Charlotte clearly didn’t think so.

      ‘No. I’m not waiting.’ Edward told himself, with less conviction than normal, that he had everything he needed. His work, his books. The textured, multicoloured, harmonic flow of the world around him, perfect in all its intricacies.

      ‘Better watch out, then.’

      He was aware that her gaze was on him.

      ‘Why?’

      ‘That’s when things sneak up on you from behind. When you least expect them.’

      He turned to tell her that she was wrong—one smooth movement which began with a shake of his head, and ended with her lips. She gave a little start of surprise and then... Then she kissed him back.

      Soft...slow.

      Edward was taking it gently, giving her every opportunity to draw back from him, but that was the very last thing that Charlotte wanted to do. When he brushed his fingers against her neck, his thumb caressing her jaw, she felt her breath quicken.

      He was all for the moment. Each touch was special and not to be rushed. Every breath was one they wouldn’t take again, unique and remarkable. His fingertips found hers, touching, sensing, and then wrapping around her hand, drawing it upwards. Holding her gaze, he brushed his lips against the back of her fingers.

      There was more. Simmering beneath the surface. Waiting. He took the pace up a notch, just one, his hand on the nape of her neck, pulling her in for another kiss. This time there was an edge to it, a promise of so much more if she could only stand this long, slow preamble.

      He didn’t call out her name. Made no profession of desire, or love, or even friendship. He didn’t need to. It was all there in his kiss, the heat banking and flaring until she felt herself begin to tremble.

      They broke apart. Charlotte’s heart was thudding in her chest, her lungs pulling in air.

      ‘Does that make any difference?’ he asked.

      ‘What do you mean?’ Of course it made a difference. Edward’s kiss made all the difference in the world. Fear clutched at her.

      ‘I mean does that make you or me into different people? Change any of our views on life?’

      She wished it did, but all of the old doubts were still there, the dread that she might fall back into disaster again. ‘No.’

      ‘Then I guess we’ll say that there’s someone out there for you, and someone for me. Leave it at that.’

      So this was the way he wanted to play it. Just a kiss between friends. Like hell it was. That had been the first step on a path which led straight to two naked bodies and mind-blowing sex. They needed no words to know that.

      He was right, though. Sex with Edward, if she ever managed to survive the intensity of the foreplay, would be like jumping from the frying pan into a searing fire. She couldn’t afford to be fooled again by quiet charm and hidden depths. She wanted—needed—everything to be in plain sight.

      ‘Yes. That would probably be sensible.’ It seemed almost wrong to stand up now. Like the biggest lie of all to deny what had just happened. But she did it. ‘I’m going to...’

      Saying that she was going to bed would sound like a come-on. And his gaze was still so very enticing. Charlotte was under no illusions about whether she would be able to say no to him if he reached out for her now.

      His slow smile was laced with all of the intentions that neither of them seemed able to follow through on. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      What was that for? Starting things? Stopping things?

      She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek, drawing back again. ‘Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.’