Millie's Game Plan by Rosie Dean

love lives?’ He looked across at me and, despite the only illumination coming from the dashboard and a silvery moon, I’m pretty sure I detected a cheeky twinkle in those eyes.
    I smiled back, feeling that stomach-churning thrill you get at the start of a potential relationship, when you become aware of mutual attraction. ‘Erm…actually, it hadn’t occurred to me, till tonight. It might be a novel way to boost my income.’
    There was a deep hum of recognition from him as he concentrated on the road, like he absolutely knew he’d sparked something in me. And I absolutely knew he was going to ask me out.
    As we pulled up outside Bridgeman Villas, he switched off the engine and opened his car door. ‘Hang on, I’ll let you out.’
    How gallant, I thought. So I sat there, licking my lips and ruffling my hair – praying I didn’t taste too ghastly after the Irish coffee Vonnie had pressed upon me.
    He opened the boot. Of course. All my kit was in there. Maybe I could open my own door, it’s not as if I was totally incapable but, quick as a flash, he was there, holding it and offering a warm, strong hand to help me. I took it and stepped out and forward into the space between him and the car – only much nearer to him. To my delight, he didn’t step back but looked down at me in that ‘will-we-won’t-we?’ kind of way that had my nerves leaping with anticipation. My injured hand was strapped to my chest in a rather earnest fashion – like an American reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.
    ‘It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Millie.’
    ‘You too,’ I said, feeling my body drifting closer towards his.
    He raised my good hand and dipped his head to kiss my fingers.
    Well, that was a first, let me tell you. Warm breath, stubble and lips against my skin – he struck a direct stream from my knuckles to my knickers. I think I even made a croaking sound. Truly. I had to cough to disguise it, which was pointless as he absolutely bloody knew he’d got me exactly where I wanted to be.
    He smiled. ‘If you’re not busy on Saturday evening, would you like to come to a party? It’s in London.’
    Would I?
    ‘Can I let you know tomorrow?’ I asked, deploying another one of Sacha’s rules.
    He was still smiling but held his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily. ‘Sure. Let me give you my number.’ He had to drop my hand to reach into the breast pocket of his jacket for his wallet. I watched as he deftly took out a business card and handed it to me.
    I thanked him and he bent down to retrieve my camera case from the pavement. Maybe a full blown, no-holds-barred snog was out of the question, then? I made sure I gave him a lingering, under the eyelids glance that said, Alexander Marshal, you can have me – and soon .
    As I walked through the gate that fronted Bridgeman Villas, I thought to myself, Millie Carmichael – this could well be the husband of your dreams and father of your children. Remember this night. Don’t blow it.
    As we reached the door, I realised I needed more help. My keys were somewhere in my handbag and with only one hand, finding them was going to be a problem. I held it towards him.
    ‘Are you giving me permission to rifle through your handbag?’
    I smiled. ‘Could you just hold it while I rifle for myself?’
    He slung my camera case over his shoulder and leaned the light-stand against the wall. I placed my bag in his outstretched hands and pulled open the catch. I could hear the keys – down and to the left – but I wanted to make the most of spending this delicious moment close to Lex, feeling his warmth and hearing his breathing inches away from me.
    Clearly, Lex liked it too, because he leaned forward and rested his head against mine and said, very quietly, ‘Sure you don’t want a hand?’
    I giggled. Swear to God I did. Like a teenager. ‘Nearly there,’ I said, my voice muffled by lust.
    Finally, I could eke it out no longer and pulled the elusive bunch from the bag. He