All Bets Are On by Charlotte Phillips Page B

impromptu, followed by his admittedly deliberate refusal to kiss her. He’d put himself out there, told her she could choose what they’d do today, and she’d thrown this into the mix. He could jump ship; there was nothing making him stay here. Except he knew perfectly well that if he did, any chance of winning the bet would be over. And he would have let her get the better of him.
    Definitely not acceptable. If anything it made him more determined than ever to have her.
    He’d known all along that convincing her he didn’t deserve his reputation was the way to win her over. And here was the opportunity to take a big step in that direction.
    He sat grudgingly down in the chair.
    ‘Can’t you do something a bit tougher?’ he grumbled. ‘Spider-Man maybe?’
    She stood in front of him and dabbed a brush in a pot of something on the table. He suddenly realised he was eye level with the soft creamy skin of her neck and décolletage as she leaned over him and he could smell the light scent of her perfume, something lemony and fresh. He settled back a little in the chair. Maybe there were compensations to the situation. He could quite happily look at that view for a while.
    She tilted his chin upwards gently and he felt the light tickle of the brush as she stroked his cheek with it. This close he could see her with absolute clarity. The tiny scar that broke the smooth line of her upper lip, just to the right of the cupid’s bow. That one little flaw seemed to highlight the full softness of her lips, painted lightly in a pale pink sparkly gloss, slightly parted. There was something so alluring about the way her tongue crept into the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on what she was doing. To look was to wonder how it would feel to take that delicious lower lip between his own. One gentle move and he could pull her into his lap on the chair and find out exactly how she tasted. Delicious heat began to pool low in his abdomen.
    Like a bucket of cold water sloshing over him, all thoughts of passion disintegrated as the mingled shouts of excited children kicked in at the front of the house and built to a crescendo as they poured down the path.
    ‘Finished,’ she said, standing back and looking at him appraisingly. ‘Perfect timing. It’s all kicking off now.’
    She grabbed a mirror from the table and held it in front of him with a grin.
    ‘Pirate,’ she said. ‘You already had the stubble—it was just a matter of adding in a few scars and a bit of eyeliner. You might want to pop on an eyepatch or something—accessories are in that big box over there.’
    He stared at his reflection in disbelief. What had she done to him? What might she do to him if he let her have free rein over this relationship?
    He felt a sudden tug at his sleeve and tore his eyes away from his insane reflection to look down.
    Small blonde girl with winning expression looking up at him.
    He felt as if he were sailing back madly through time; the day was feeling crazier by the second. She looked just as Susie had when she was in her first decade—before her baby blonde hair took on its teenage light brown colour. He’d been in his mid-teens then. Straight home from school so she wouldn’t be left home alone while their mother was goodness knew where.
    He forced himself to smile down at her when what he wanted to do was exit the garden and never look back.
    ‘Want your face painted?’ he asked, glancing around for Alice. ‘She does a very good fairy.’
    Small blonde girl shook her head so fast her hair swished about.
    ‘I want to be a pirate,’ she said. ‘Like you.’
    * * *
    Turned out painting faces was the easy part. Tilly had failed to mention the mayhem that a gang of under-tens could cause when faced with forming a queue.
    ‘Wait your turn...wait your turn...’ Alice chanted desperately, moving the glitter pot out of reach for the hundredth time. The adult party was now in full swing up on the terrace at the top of the garden,