And he told her so.
She scoffed. ‘There’s really nothing to being organised.’
‘There is, when you’re trying to juggle six things at once.’
She looked at him. ‘Gio Mazetti, are you trying to tell me you haven’t sorted out your sisters’ birthday presents yet?’
How the hell had she guessed that? He hadn’t even discussed it with her. ‘I’ll get there—’ he paused ‘—unless, that is, you’re offering help? Because they’re at a difficult age.’
She laughed back. ‘Rubbish. There’s nothing difficult about twenty-seven, twenty-five or twenty-three.’
‘Oh, yes, there is. I have no idea what’s trendy and what’s completely unfashionable.’
‘And you think I do?’
He smiled. ‘You have a better idea than I have, anyway. Come shopping with me?’
She gave him a searching look, as if trying to work out if his offer was for real; then clearly she decided to take it at face value, because she said, ‘Sure, I’ll help you find something.’
‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’ He finished his drink. ‘Nice coffee, by the way.’
‘Thank you.’
‘In cupping terms, I’d say this has a perfect body.’ Just like her. Soft and curvy and incredibly sexy. ‘I haven’t told you about the cupping, have I?’
Cupping.
Little shivers of desire went all the way down her spine. The way he’d held her on his lap this afternoon, with his hands at her waist—if they’d been alone, how easily his hands could have slid up her ribcage to cup her breasts.
Her mouth went dry. ‘Cupping.’
His eyes sparkled with amusement. ‘It’s the coffee world’s equivalent of wine tasting.’
Fran could actually feel the colour flooding into her face. Oh, lord. How embarrassing could she get?
Gio’s voice deepened slightly. ‘Though there is another definition.’ The amusement in his gaze was replaced by sheer heat. ‘Fran, if I embarrassed you this afternoon when I pulled you on to my lap like that, I’m sorry.’
She wasn’t.
He moistened his lower lip. ‘My family is…tactile.’
Yes. And she really wanted him to touch her, right here and now. She could see in his face that he was going to touch her. And when he reached out and stroked her cheek, she couldn’t help herself. She turned her face into his palm and pressed a kiss into it. ‘It’s OK.’
‘No, it’s not.’ She could actually feel his hands trembling. ‘Because right now I really need to…’ In one swift movement, he’d pulled her on to his lap. Except this time she was sitting facing him. He leaned forward and caught her lower lip between his. Nibbled gently until she opened her mouth and slid her arms round his neck, leaning closer. His hands were pressed flat against the curve of her waist. And then his fingers dipped under the hem of her shirt. She quivered as his fingertips brushed her skin, moving slowly upwards. And then somehow he’d unsnapped her bra, pushed the material aside and was cupping her breasts.
And it was even better than she’d imagined, a few moments before.
When he broke the kiss to trace the curve of her neck with his mouth, she made a little noise of pleasure.
And Gio stopped.
Stared at her, shock blanching his face.
‘I…Fran. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this.’
Before she could protest that it was OK, that she was there all the way with him, he restored order to her clothes and gently moved her off his lap.
‘This wasn’t…Fran, I don’t do relationships. And I respect you too much to sleep with you and push you out of my life.’
Respect. What was it about her that made men want to respect her, be her friend, instead of seducing her? Most of the time it didn’t bother her.
Right now, it did.
Especially because it would be all too obvious how aroused she was.
The only thing she could salvage from this was pride. So she made the effort to sound like the cool, efficient office manager she was supposed to be. This girlfriend business was just for show and what had just happened between them was—well, they’d both been under pressure. ‘No worries. We’ll just pretend it never happened.’
‘Thank you.’ He stood up. ‘I, um—see you tomorrow.’
She nodded. ‘And bring your credit card.’
‘Credit card?’
‘Your sisters’ birthday presents. We’re going shopping in my lunch hour.’
And the minute he left, she was going to take a very, very cold shower. Get her brain and her body back to normal.
Shopping? More like a military operation, Gio thought when Fran marched him into the third shop in Oxford Street. ‘What did you do—scope things out on the net first?’