Her skin was satiny-smooth against his rough, callused hand. He was used to the women he danced with to swoon in his arms – or, at least, to press themselves up against him. He was only slightly surprised when Penny did not. He shouldn't have been surprised at all. She was always different from those other girls.
He leaned forward slightly, bending to whisper in her ear.
'Drinks at my place?'
Her returning gaze was inquisitive, the tilt of her head betrayed her indecision. He stared at her for several moments before nodding.
'All right, but only one.'
He grinned, leading her off the dance floor. It was the work of only a few minutes to gathered their coats, bid farewell to Alec (who glowered at Bond as they left), and collect the car. James flipped a coin to the valet as he slid into the car.
His hand rested on her knee as they sped down the London streets, pulling up, with a flourish, to his townhouse. She had been here several times before, but never at night – and never with this feeling of anticipation.
Something was going to happen. She didn't know what it was, but it would. She knew by the way he rested his hand on her back, how he opened the door for her, the way he looked at her.
He sat next to her on the sofa, handing her a drink. His knees pressed against hers, which she knew was deliberate. She didn't mind. A feeling of excitement had started low in her stomach, and she moved closer, draining her martini.
'Thank you,' she said, 'for the drink.' She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, then to his lips. 'Good night.'
'Don't go.' He grabbed her hand.
'Good night,' she said, freeing her hand from his. She picked up her coat and left the room, then the house, her lips still burning from their kiss.