The chocolate biscuit had done little to quell my rising hunger though in all the excitement I’d forgotten just how famished I was. That is until the waiter brought a small ramekin of olives to the table.
I speared one with a cocktail stick, and then another. The menu was resting in my left hand while my right went in for a third.
Across the table Vince sniggered, making me look up.
‘Are you hungry, Felicity?’ he asked, flicking his eyes to the olives.
I moved my menu to look down. There was only one left. Somehow, I’d eaten them all, my side plate now covered in a small mound of pips. His plate had none.
As my cheeks coloured, I replied grumpily, ‘I expected to be eating some time ago, Mr Slater.’
‘Mr Slater,’ he echoed with a raised eyebrow. ‘You know this is a date, right? How about if you call me Vince?’ Yet again his pirate’s smile was in place, a mix of amusement, outright cheek, a wolfish need to tease and somehow also a threat of desire.
I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘Stop looking at me like that.’
‘Like what?’ he asked, his expression now beginning to smoulder. I could feel my cheeks radiating heat.
‘Like you want to cover me in toffee sauce and eat me with a spoon,’ I snapped irritably and as quietly as I could. ‘I am not dessert, Mr Slater. Nor any other course on your menu. I agreed to this date because I was coerced into it.’
I got a smile and a nod in reply. ‘I honestly didn’t expect you to show up. I called you earlier because you were fifteen minutes late and I wanted to confirm I could get on and order myself something to eat. That you are here fills me with hope.’
‘Hope?’ I repeated, not liking the way he said the word.
Again, the smile. It made my stomach writhe. Not with nausea, but fear. Perhaps fear is too harsh of a word, but it was something akin to that.
‘Yes, Felicity, hope.’ He dropped his voice so it was a soft caress of a whisper. ‘I hope to get to know you.’ Gone was the rogue, banished so the real Vince could make an appearance. Across from me now, the man looking at me had chosen to drop his guard. His hopeful look, the depth of compassion in his eyes shocked me in a way I just wasn’t prepared for.
He reached out with his hand, laying it palm up on the table so I could put my hand into his. Instinctively, as another human bared their soul, I did so, feeling the warmth of his skin on mine. My hand was tiny in his as his fingers closed and he held my gaze, neither of us saying anything.
‘You want to get to know me?’ I repeated. This tender approach was not what I expected at all.
‘Of course, Felicity,’ he replied, his eyes locked on mine. Uninvited, unexpected, and largely unwanted, my heart was beginning to race again. ‘You are brilliant, talented, graceful, and beautiful.’ I would never admit to being any of those things, but it was nice to hear him say it. Abruptly, the pirate’s smile returned, ‘Besides, how else will I lure you into my bed?’
I snatched my hand back with an exasperated gasp and snatched up my handbag. I was storming out of this restaurant and never speaking to Vince Slater again. Honestly, his brazenness was shocking.
‘Come on, Felicity,’ he chuckled, seemingly unconcerned that other diners were staring our way and murmuring to one another. ‘You enjoyed that kiss and you know it.’
‘You stole that kiss!’ I snapped. ‘I never even saw it coming.’
‘Why did you kiss me back then?’ he smiled at me ever so knowingly.
My mouth opened to retort, but I didn’t have an answer for him. I wanted to say that I hadn’t, but conjuring the memory into my mind, I knew that I had. His lips met mine in the dark and I pushed back with my own.
Pausing, while across the room I could see the Maître D urging the doorman to fetch my coat, I met Vince’s eyes, and claimed quite triumphantly. ‘Savour it. It’s the only kiss you will ever get.’
Then I spun on my heel and marched to the door. Around me in the restaurant there were bemused looking men sat at tables with their wives or girlfriends. The women, however, did not look bemused. They were giving me nods of appreciation and support. I think I even saw one woman raise her fist as if punching the air.
My exit from the restaurant would have gone ever so much better if Chief Inspector Quinn hadn’t come through the door just before I got to it.
‘Ah, Mrs Philips, good evening,’ he said, blocking my exit with his body. Two more officers, both men, came in behind him.
Cautiously, since he appeared to be here looking for me, I replied with, ‘Good evening.’
‘Felicity Philips, I am arresting you for the crime of murder. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court.’
Arrested
My eyes went wide in shock as the world began to spin beneath my feet. I must have heard the words spoken a thousand times watching cop shows with Archie but only heard them spoken by a real police officer for the first time last weekend. I heard them again this morning when the chief inspector took John Ramsey into custody.
Now they were aimed at me. My head went whirly, and I felt my knees sag. Someone caught
