“So are we going to talk about it?”
I jerked my head up. A knowing smile spread across Samir’s lips. An awkward tension filled the air between us. It was strange to think that on one hand we’d been more intimate than I’d ever been with anyone and yet he still felt like a total stranger.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I bluffed.
He quirked a brow at me, his head tilted to the side, his expression considering. “So that’s how you’re going to play it?”
I knew I was the polar opposite of smooth, but I didn’t know what to say to him.
Samir grinned. “Fine. I have my memories to keep me company.” He winked at me. “And believe me, I have plenty of good memories.”
I reached out and shoved him, the move reflexive, my hand fisting the expensive fabric of his shirt. I froze mid-motion, my hand clutching the fabric, half-pulling him towards me, half-pushing him away.
Samir’s voice deepened, grew seductive. “Why won’t you admit you want me? It was pretty obvious when your body was wrapped around mine.”
I flushed. “My body was never wrapped around yours,” I snapped, releasing my hold on his shirt. “It was a one-time, stupid, drunken thing. It’ll never happen again.”
“Sure it won’t.”
I SEE LONDON February 3, 2014
I SEE LONDON Copyright © Chanel Cleeton Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A.