Sinless by Juliet Lyons

Author:Juliet Lyons
Format: epub

*

Shortly after Hannah’s departure, I get nervous. Really nervous. I silently curse the delivery man who buzzed Hadrian’s flat. If it wasn’t for him, we’d have already had sex and the pressure would be off. But no, I had to nurture grand aspirations of doing things properly. Plus, I said I’d cook.

“I’ll cook for you,” I mutter, mimicking the sound of my own voice as I chop up a stick of celery.

I decide the best option is to make a simple beef stew. That way I can prepare it and leave it in the oven until he arrives.

Once the stew is bubbling, I flip the sign in the shop window to Closed and lock the front door. Then I dash upstairs to run a bath and try to figure out what to wear.

By seven o’clock, I’m waiting anxiously downstairs, checking my makeup for the millionth time and twisting my hands. After much internal debate, I eventually settled on a tight navy sweater dress and tan suede ankle boots. Usually I’d wear the dress with leggings or tights, but tonight I go hell to leather and ditch them. I leave my hair loose, my blonde curls as unruly as ever.

When there’s a knock at the door, I force myself to wait five seconds before answering. My legs wobble as I flip the latch and swing it open.

As soon as I lock on to Hadrian’s violet eyes, however, my nerves disappear. He is beautiful, a vision in a battered leather jacket and jeans, the twinkle of shop lights reflecting off his eyebrow hoop.

He steps inside and closes the door, and we stand for a few seconds, smiling at each other.

“So,” I murmur, not knowing what to say.

“So,” he says.

He runs a gaze over my body and arches a brow. “No eighty-denier tights this evening?”

I shake my head. “I decided it might be too warm for them.”

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the stubbly column of his throat before saying in a throaty voice, “I’m not sure how I got through the last six hours.”

I gulp. “Me neither.”

“I got you something,” he says, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans and producing a flat brown paper package.

I step closer. “A gift?”

“We did agree to do this properly, Miss Black.”

Smiling, I take the parcel, and as his fingers brush mine, a tingle of electricity shoots through me.

“You’ll already own a copy but it’s an early edition,” he says casually as I unwrap it. “I remember you saying how much you like Dickens.”

I tear the brown paper open to reveal a copy of A Tale of Two Cities.

“Hadrian, it’s beautiful,” I say, running fingers over the gold embossed spine. “You shouldn’t have.”

I feel his eyes on my face as I flick through the pages, holding it to my nose to inhale the aroma of old print.

Lust burns in his violet eyes as he whispers, “Grace.”

I set the book carefully on a display table, my heart beating faster as he reaches for me.

A second

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