Free Living in Shadow (Living In…) by Jackie Ashenden Page B

firm grip, strong and yet gentle. That’s all it had taken for those long-buried instincts to kick in. Instincts that clearly weren’t going to stay buried.
    Yeah, she knew why she was here. The time for denying herself had passed. That kiss had made a lie out of her every denial and if that hadn’t, the way he’d held her certainly had.
    Maybe it was a bad decision, but she couldn’t go on the way she had been. Couldn’t bear the fear that lurked in her gut. That had consumed her the moment she’d first spoken to Luc, if she were being completely honest.
    One night, he’d said. They’d talk and then it was up to her what she did.
    Perhaps she owed it to herself to at least talk.
    Perhaps it’s not thinking you need, Professor.
    Ah Jesus, how he’d spotted that, she had no idea, but the moment he’d said it, she’d felt everything in her want it. She missed that not-thinking space. Missed it desperately.
    But in order to have it, she was going to have to trust and that was the thing she just didn’t know if she could give.
    Maybe that’s why she was here, ultimately. To find out if she could trust him.
    Sick of second-guessing herself, Eleanor put her hand on the door and pushed it open, stepping into the bar.
    Friday night in the middle of the city and the place was crowded with a mix of people: suits escaping their offices for end-of-the-week drinks, a group of media industry types who looked like they’d been there since lunchtime, a crowd of art students hanging out around a large table.
    The bar was done up to look like a library, shelves of old books against the walls and old wingback armchairs everywhere. A few couches and low tables for larger groups too, even a few desks with reading lights over them. It was eclectic and cool and exactly the kind of place she’d pick Luc liking.
    She gave the room a quick scan and when she didn’t immediately spot him, moved straight to the bar, ordering herself a glass of wine because, Christ, she needed it.
    It was only then that she saw a small alcove off to the side where there were more shelves of books and, right at the back, a long couch. The space was small and intimate, set apart from the rest of the bar. And it didn’t surprise her in the least to see Luc leaning back on that couch, long legs stretched out in front of him, talking on his phone.
    A helpless ache gathered low in her gut and she allowed herself a moment to look at him while his attention was on his conversation and while she waited for the bartender to get her wine.
    There was no denying the fact that he was beautiful, all lean strength and fierce masculinity. One arm lay along the back of the couch, the tattoos winding up his smooth, dark skin displayed like pictures in a gallery. Lines and dots, a sprinkling of stars, and a snarling tiger following the lean strength of his forearm and curve of his biceps.
    He was wearing what he’d had on earlier that day, dark jeans and a red T-shirt, nothing special, and yet all she seemed to be aware of was the way the denim pulled tight around his thighs and how the cotton of the T-shirt did nothing to disguise his broad chest.
    She hadn’t felt the urge to admire a man in years and now she couldn’t help herself.
    It’s a slippery slope.
    Yeah, well, she’d already fallen down it, hadn’t she?
    Cursing under her breath, she tore her gaze away, turning to pay for her wine as the bartender pushed it over to her. Picking up the glass, she began threading her way through the tables toward the alcove. Luc spotted her, dark eyes glittering, as she came closer. But he didn’t smile, the lines of his beautiful face hard.
    “You’ve displeased me, Eleanor. You need to be punished.”
    Oh God, what the fuck was Piers doing in her head? She didn’t want him there, like she didn’t want that old curl of lingering fear.
    By the time she reached the couch, she’d managed to push Piers to the back of her mind and Luc had finished up his conversation,