From London, with Love by Iris Visser

Author:Iris Visser [Visser, Iris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kobo Originals
Published: 2024-01-16T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

THAT EVENING, THERE’S a gentle knock on my hotel room door. I look up. I just got into my comfy pants and I’m curled up in the loveseat by the window. I swapped my contacts for glasses. Sliding them a bit higher on my nose, I set my book aside and shuffle over to the door.

Val is standing in my doorway, snowflakes clinging to his hair and black coat. He unabashedly takes in the sight of me, letting his gaze glide from my slippered feet along my ratty sweatpants—including a recently acquired hole—up to my fuzzy sweater, and finally reaching the messy bun on top of my head. As I stand in front of him with a steaming cup of tea in my hands, a subtle, sexy smile appears on his face.

“What are the odds you’re willing to put on some real clothes and come out for dinner with me?” he asks in an amused tone.

I glance down at my watch. It’s already seven and I was honestly planning to order some room-service pizza. I give him a hesitant look.

“I’m buying,” he adds.

With a satisfied nod, I put my cup down on a nearby table. “Just a second,” I yell out over my shoulder as I sprint toward the bathroom.

We’re dining at a cozy little restaurant not too far from Big Ben. Val twists his spaghetti Bolognese onto a fork and I watch him slurp one of the noodles until it disappears between his lips. As I tuck a bite of truffle risotto into my mouth, I have to stop myself from moaning out loud. It has the exact right amount of parmesan and I can feel the rich butter melting on my tongue.

Val gives me an eager look. “Do you like it?” he wonders, just as I’m raising a generous spoonful to my mouth.

“Oh, it’s amazing. Want to give it a taste?” I give him an inquisitive look and, without thinking, redirect my spoon toward his mouth instead.

He hesitates for a moment with a contemplative expression on his face, then grabs the silverware and takes a bite. Eyes closed, he lets out a satisfied groan. “Wow, I think I might have ordered the wrong thing,” he says, before returning to twirling his fork in his plate of pasta.

In the middle of my next spoonful of risotto, I realize that my boss and I just shared saliva.

“What did you think of the store? Did Matthew give you the grand tour?” Val asks, curiosity in his voice.

“It’s gorgeous,” I tell him, taking a sip of wine. “Oh, and the chocolate’s delicious. The best I’ve ever had, actually, which is really saying something.”

A corner of his mouth quirks up. “Hmm. Good thing your Christmas gift basket had so much chocolate in it this year, I guess.”

“What do you mean my Christmas gift basket? Doesn’t everyone get the same thing?” I ask, a little surprised.

“I suppose they were somewhat personalized,” he says with a shrug.

Our server appears, flashing Val a gleaming smile before asking if we’d like anything else to drink.

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