the colour really suited her.
‘Well?’ Yvonne asked, from the other side of the curtain.
‘Yeah, it’s, um …’ Claire pulled the curtain back and stepped into the shop, where Yvonne and Luca were waiting expectantly. She stood in front of them for inspection, not minding their scrutiny now. She even did a little twirl.
‘Wow!’ Yvonne said, grinning with delight.
‘Perfect.’ Luca smiled. ‘My work here is done.’
‘Thanks, Luca,’ Claire said. ‘I really love it.’
‘You’ve earned yourself a big lunch, mister,’ Yvonne said.
‘I can’t make lunch,’ he said, with a grimace. ‘I’m meeting someone.’
‘Well, I’ll owe you.’
‘I’ll hold you to it. Enjoy your date, Claire,’ he called as he left.
Chapter Nine
Luca sat up in bed munching an apple as the afternoon sun slanted in through the blinds, warming him and creating strips of honey-coloured light on the polished wooden floor of Aisling’s bedroom.
‘Well, that was a long time coming,’ she said with a triumphant smile.
He looked at her stretched out naked beside him on the rumpled sheet, her long blonde hair tousled. Damp tendrils clung to her forehead and the sides of her face. ‘ You were a long time coming,’ he said.
She made a sleepy, satisfied noise and nestled deeper into the pillow.
‘Give me a bite.’ She nodded at the apple.
Luca nipped her shoulder lightly. ‘There you go.’
Aisling laughed and grabbed the apple from him.
‘Hey!’
‘Bite me!’ she said, and bit into it with a juicy crunch before handing it back to him.
Luca finished it and lobbed the core into the basket in the far corner of the room. Then he checked his watch. It was almost three. ‘I’m going to head off,’ he said, swinging out of the bed.
‘Don’t go.’ Aisling groaned pettishly, reaching for him, but he was already sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to her. ‘Why don’t you stay?’ Her fingers stroked his spine.
Luca sighed. ‘I told you. I’m meeting my father for dinner later, and I want to get some work done before that.’
‘You mean painting?’ She didn’t try to hide the sneer in her voice.
‘Yes, painting.’
‘But that’s the beauty of being your own boss. No one can stop you skiving off for an afternoon whenever you want. I just told Nicola I wouldn’t be back for the rest of the day. I could tell she was livid, but there’s nothing she can do about it.’ Aisling owned a very chic and expensive bag shop in the Powerscourt Centre where, like her stock, she was more decorative than useful.
‘Well, unlike you, no one else can do my work for me.’
‘So take a day off,’ she drawled, in a bored voice. ‘Who cares?’
‘I care,’ he said, standing up and turning to her.
‘You could paint me.’ She spread her arms wide and looked up at him appealingly.
He studied her, his eyes slowly raking the length of her body. She was a beautiful girl, there was no denying that – she had a fit, toned body, soft, well-tended skin, great tits. But there was something vacuous and bland about her prettiness that held no aesthetic interest for him. There was no character in her face, no little quirk or irregularity to make it interesting. It was flawless, doll-like … boring.
‘Is this new?’ he asked, bending and reaching out with one finger to touch the tattoo on her hip – a cluster of small, coloured stars. He hadn’t seen it before, but it was a long time since they’d slept together.
‘I got it a couple of weeks ago. What do you think?’
‘It’s cool,’ he said, sitting down beside her, his finger tracing lazily over the tattoo.
‘You’re the first person to see it.’
‘Really? Not even Philip?’
‘No.’ Aisling raised herself up on her elbow. ‘Philip and I are on a break.’
‘Yeah?’
‘You didn’t know?’ She sounded surprised.
‘Why would I?’
‘Well, I’d have thought it was obvious. I mean, do you honestly think I’d be here with you if I
‘Well?’ Yvonne asked, from the other side of the curtain.
‘Yeah, it’s, um …’ Claire pulled the curtain back and stepped into the shop, where Yvonne and Luca were waiting expectantly. She stood in front of them for inspection, not minding their scrutiny now. She even did a little twirl.
‘Wow!’ Yvonne said, grinning with delight.
‘Perfect.’ Luca smiled. ‘My work here is done.’
‘Thanks, Luca,’ Claire said. ‘I really love it.’
‘You’ve earned yourself a big lunch, mister,’ Yvonne said.
‘I can’t make lunch,’ he said, with a grimace. ‘I’m meeting someone.’
‘Well, I’ll owe you.’
‘I’ll hold you to it. Enjoy your date, Claire,’ he called as he left.
Chapter Nine
Luca sat up in bed munching an apple as the afternoon sun slanted in through the blinds, warming him and creating strips of honey-coloured light on the polished wooden floor of Aisling’s bedroom.
‘Well, that was a long time coming,’ she said with a triumphant smile.
He looked at her stretched out naked beside him on the rumpled sheet, her long blonde hair tousled. Damp tendrils clung to her forehead and the sides of her face. ‘ You were a long time coming,’ he said.
She made a sleepy, satisfied noise and nestled deeper into the pillow.
‘Give me a bite.’ She nodded at the apple.
Luca nipped her shoulder lightly. ‘There you go.’
Aisling laughed and grabbed the apple from him.
‘Hey!’
‘Bite me!’ she said, and bit into it with a juicy crunch before handing it back to him.
Luca finished it and lobbed the core into the basket in the far corner of the room. Then he checked his watch. It was almost three. ‘I’m going to head off,’ he said, swinging out of the bed.
‘Don’t go.’ Aisling groaned pettishly, reaching for him, but he was already sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to her. ‘Why don’t you stay?’ Her fingers stroked his spine.
Luca sighed. ‘I told you. I’m meeting my father for dinner later, and I want to get some work done before that.’
‘You mean painting?’ She didn’t try to hide the sneer in her voice.
‘Yes, painting.’
‘But that’s the beauty of being your own boss. No one can stop you skiving off for an afternoon whenever you want. I just told Nicola I wouldn’t be back for the rest of the day. I could tell she was livid, but there’s nothing she can do about it.’ Aisling owned a very chic and expensive bag shop in the Powerscourt Centre where, like her stock, she was more decorative than useful.
‘Well, unlike you, no one else can do my work for me.’
‘So take a day off,’ she drawled, in a bored voice. ‘Who cares?’
‘I care,’ he said, standing up and turning to her.
‘You could paint me.’ She spread her arms wide and looked up at him appealingly.
He studied her, his eyes slowly raking the length of her body. She was a beautiful girl, there was no denying that – she had a fit, toned body, soft, well-tended skin, great tits. But there was something vacuous and bland about her prettiness that held no aesthetic interest for him. There was no character in her face, no little quirk or irregularity to make it interesting. It was flawless, doll-like … boring.
‘Is this new?’ he asked, bending and reaching out with one finger to touch the tattoo on her hip – a cluster of small, coloured stars. He hadn’t seen it before, but it was a long time since they’d slept together.
‘I got it a couple of weeks ago. What do you think?’
‘It’s cool,’ he said, sitting down beside her, his finger tracing lazily over the tattoo.
‘You’re the first person to see it.’
‘Really? Not even Philip?’
‘No.’ Aisling raised herself up on her elbow. ‘Philip and I are on a break.’
‘Yeah?’
‘You didn’t know?’ She sounded surprised.
‘Why would I?’
‘Well, I’d have thought it was obvious. I mean, do you honestly think I’d be here with you if I
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