Five Exotic Fantasies: Love in Reverse, Book 3 by Serenity Woods Page B

it was pointless to start a journey when she had to get off after one stop? And yet the thought of going out with him, of having a drink, getting to know him better, filled her with a warmth she couldn’t shake.
    Head bowed, she walked back through the streets to the building and rode the elevator to her floor. She left her coat in her office and checked with Rob. Felix was still in his room, he assured her, and hadn’t appeared for lunch.
    It was now one thirty, so she bought two different boxes of sandwiches from the cart, made two cups of tea and went to his office to find the door open and him deep in contemplation, studying his iPad.
    He looked up and a rueful smile spread across his face. “Hey.”
    “Hey.” She walked in and put the mugs on his desk. “Thought you might like a cup of ‘Rosie’.”
    He laughed, put down his stylus and leaned back in the chair. “Thank you. That would be lovely.”
    “And I wondered if you were hungry. The cart leaves at two, and I didn’t want you to miss out on lunch.” She offered him both boxes.
    He smiled and chose the chicken. “Will you join me?”
    “If that’s okay.”
    “Of course.”
    She moved the mugs to the coffee table, and he rose and walked around the desk to take the armchair across from her. They opened the boxes and began to eat the sandwiches.
    She indicated the desk. “How’s the investigation? Rob said you were going to take today to go through some files.”
    “Yeah.” He picked at a bit of lettuce. “Actually, between you and me, I thought I’d take the afternoon to recover. I found the process a bit…hair raising.”
    He was confiding in her. Once again she flushed with warmth, aware of the strange connection they’d made that, as he’d told her, they couldn’t now undo. “You surprise me. You looked totally in control, especially at the end. I loved the way you stared Peter down.”
    He gave her a wry smile. “I’m sure he was wearing a syrup.”
    “Syrup?”
    He grinned then. “Sorry. Syrup of figs—it’s rhyming slang for wig. Toupee, you know. You can’t tell me that black rug was real.”
    She rolled her eyes. “I need an English to Cockney dictionary just to talk to you.”
    “I know, I forget. I rented a house with a girl from Peckham for two years—it rubbed off on me.”
    She chewed her sandwich, studying him curiously. “Was she your girlfriend?”
    He picked up his mug but didn’t drink, staring instead out of the window. “Yes.”
    “Did she move back over here with you?”
    “No.” He sighed. “She died.”
    Coco inhaled. “Oh goodness. I’m so sorry.”
    He looked back at her, his eyes sad. “Thank you.”
    “Was she ill?”
    “No. She went on holiday to Greece with some friends and went snorkelling. When she was younger she used to have asthma, but it hadn’t been a problem for years so she didn’t even think about it. But she had an attack—I think it was something to do with the pressure of the water—and they just couldn’t get her breathing again.”
    Coco put down her sandwich, filled with horror at the thought of losing someone at that age. “That’s so awful.”
    “It was. Well, still is. It was seven years ago now, but I still have trouble moving on, you know? I’ve tried…” He gave a sheepish smile. “Quite a few times. But it’s not easy.”
    Coco was only too aware of how a relationship could haunt you even after years had passed. Thinking about her ex, Michael, sent another wave of depression over her, and she pushed the second half of the sandwich away uneaten. Michael had effectively killed her hopes of another relationship by destroying her self-confidence to the extent that she was terrified of opening up to anyone again.
    What was she doing here? Felix’s intimation that he’d tried to move on implied that he slept around, and that was most definitely not the sort of man she was interested in. In fact she didn’t want a relationship with anyone, and certainly not