The First Time We Met: The Oxford Blue Series #1 by Pippa Croft

places higher up.
    ‘In that case I’m delighted to be wrong.’
    ‘Is that a new experience for you? Being wrong?’
    ‘Not new, but certainly unfamiliar.’ He uncrosses his legs, making space for me on the sofa. ‘And why don’t you sit down,
please
.’
    No other man I’ve ever met could make the simplest of words sound like an invitation to get naked. He angles himself towards me, and I notice that his face is tanned, like he’s been caught out in the sun, even though the skies have been grey in Oxford since he left. Perhaps Immy’s theories about his absence having something to do with his army work are right. Perhaps he also looks a little tired underneath the sunburn and that, inexplicably, makes him seem almost human and even hotter.
    ‘I’m sorry I didn’t call you,’ he says.
    I shrug. ‘I think you may be confusing me with someone who cares whether you call or not.’
    ‘Oh, really?’ He seems amused, and when his knee nudges mine through my dress my thigh tingles. He’s a tall guy, well-built rather than bulky, yet he seems to take over any space he enters. I clasp my hands together in my lap. ‘So have you been anywhere nice while you’ve been away?’ I ask.
    ‘ “Nice” is not the word I’d use, but I have been out of town, as you might say.’
    ‘Out of town?’
    His laugh is brief and ironic. ‘In a manner of speaking.’
    Is it me or has he edged closer? My chest rises and falls a little faster and I’m seized by an urge to wipe the smug expression from his arrogant lips with my own. He brushes an imaginary mark from his trousers. Unhelpfully, the gesture draws my attention to the muscles in his thighs.
    He frowns. ‘Forgive me for saying it, but you seem very tense … I can understand it if you’re angry with me for not calling you, but it couldn’t be helped.’
    ‘Like I said, I’m not bothered.’
    ‘Good, I’m glad that’s clear between us. You see, I
had
thought you might have wanted to see me again, but now it looks like I misread the signals from you. I’m only human, despite what you, may think.’
    ‘I don’t think anything about you, Alexander.’ Fifteen–love to me, I think.
    ‘That’s most unfortunate because I
do
think about you.’
    Fifteen–all. Actually, damn, I think he aced that game. ‘Oh.’
    ‘However, if I’ve genuinely never crossed your mind in the past few days and you’ve
absolutely
no interest in me whatsoever, then perhaps I should give up thinking of you at all.’
    My fingers are warm and when I glance down I find he’s taken them in his.
    ‘If I
had
thought about you …’ My voice falters because his thumb is circling the hollow of my palm ina way that looks innocent yet feels like the prelude to something intensely erotic.
    ‘In the event of that slim possibility …’
    ‘
Very
slim … oh …’ His jacket brushes my bare arm and shivers of sensation dance through my body. ‘
If
I – ah – had thought about you, I suppose I might – just
might
– have been wondering where you had been,
but
…’
    ‘You haven’t given it a second’s thought?’
    ‘Not even a nanosecond’s.’
    He gives an exaggerated sigh that has my hackles rising. ‘In that case, I won’t have to disappoint you by saying that I can’t tell you anyway. You’ll have to trust me.’
    ‘Trust
you
?’
    ‘Is it really
that
hard?’ He leans so close to me that there’s only the silk of my dress between my skin and his thigh. Suddenly, the impulse to press my mouth to his again is almost overwhelming. It’s as if some drug has been injected into my bloodstream that’s stolen away my inhibitions. I can’t blame the champagne. It’s the wickedly sexy gleam in his eyes, that seductive voice, the whole incendiary package that is Alexander Hunt.
    ‘Why don’t you try me?’
    ‘I haven’t been in Oxford because I’ve been …
working
. Do you remember the phone call I took while you were in my house?’
    I feign an interest in a hunting