As You Like It
... "I shall desire more love and knowledge of you."


"Hermione Granger, you came!"

She smiled at the calling out of both her first and last names. It would have been a silly way to sound her arrival had Andrew's voice not carried with it a touch of enthusiastic surprise. His show of joy at her mere presence was endearing. It had been a long time a man had expressed pure pleasure in seeing her enter a room unannounced.

At this unbidden thought, Hermione gritted her teeth against the sudden and unwanted memory of walking in on Draco and Astoria. As she scanned the room for her Mr. Wright, Hermione silently swore to herself that her disastrous romantic history would not color the delicious excitement of getting to know Andrew.

Part of the reason she'd shown up at all had been because of the intensity of the fireworks that exploded behind her eyelids when they'd kissed in Draco's office. When she'd been alone in her apartment contemplating the kiss... well, let's be honest, it had been a mindless make out session... that had occurred in front of her ex-fiancè, Hermione came to the conclusion that she deserved to be selfish, just this once. And this once, she wanted a guy exactly like Andrew who could, with just a touch, turn her overactive brain to mush.

Hermione reigned in her wandering thoughts to refocus on locating the owner of the smooth baritone. She hadn't realized the little eatery was open so late, but it was the only place she knew to go, thanks to Andrew's parting clue. It wasn't as if she had any way of contacting this dark-haired stranger. Besides, this place of first meeting seemed the obvious choice.

She discovered him waving at her from an intimate table-for-two framed by a side window. He now wore some comfortable looking low-slung jeans, a form-fitting grey t-shirt, an open button-down, and some well-used trainers. His attire tonight was a far cry from the dressed-up version of him this morning.

She found she rather liked the casual Muggleness of it. With a smile she sauntered over to the table.

"Of course I'm here. How could I forego the opportunity to thank you profusely for your... superb acting abilities?" She slid a shy glance at him while slinging her satchel across the back of the chair he'd held out for her.

"What made you think any of that was an act?" he whispered provocatively, his head close to hers as he helped push in her chair. She felt a blush climb to her cheeks, he straightened and sent her a dimpled smile, making his way back to his seat. Resettled, he held a cup out to her.

"It's decaf," he warned, "even so, I warrant it's still as you like it."

Hermione smiled, taking the offered cup and bringing it up to her nose. She breathed in, expecting the aroma of hazelnut and coffee, but instead inhaled an enticing cinnamon scent. It reminded her of pumpkin juice.

"Thank you," she said, "how thoughtful of you." She didn't have the heart to tell him he'd ordered the wrong drink since Andrew looked altogether pleased with himself for having put a smile on her face.

He suggested a dessert and got up to gather some sweets once Hermione nodded her agreement. He returned with a slice of lemon tart and chocolate cake, which they shared. The couple sat, making companionable small-talk, good-naturedly sharing the baked goods. Both were aware of the tingling awareness that sang between them. She caught his admiring gaze while he examined her fashion choice for the evening— surprisingly much like his, minus the open button down. Hermione had just brought her half-empty cup to her mouth when Andrew broached the one question she didn't want to answer.

"So, Draco, he's your–?" Andrew stopped mid-sentence, realizing that boyfriend suddenly seemed a rather ridiculous thing to call one of England's most prominent tycoons.

"... ex-fiancè," she finished for him.

Andrew's mouth fell open.

"Oh, don't look so aghast!" she reprimanded, swatting the tines of his fork away with her own to capture the last mouthful of chocolate cake. He smiled at her rebuke. "He's the one at fault! I was the one who left him after all – nearly half a year ago, I might add!"

"Ex-fiancè?! Are you quite certain it's over? In the office, he seemed to still carry a torch for you," Andrew moaned. His fork fell, clattering against the lemon tart plate, as he placing a hand over his eyes. "He won't let me sign that last paper, not now. Bloody fantastic... after all that work. Foiled by a beautiful woman!"

"Don't worry," she said, absurdly touched by his unintended compliment. Hermione leaned forward to place a reassuring hand on Andrew's forearm, drawing his handsome hand, with its neatly trimmed nails, she noticed, away from the strength of his brow. Wait! Had she just caught a mischievous glint in his honey-coloured eyes? "If Draco's able to do anything well, it's compartmentalize. He's amazingly adept at it. I can assure you that his emotions will not color his business decisions. Therefore, all will be well with you and your arrangements with him."

Andrew contemplated her dubiously, catching her hand in his before she could fully pull away.

"Besides all that," she added, peering at him over her coffee cup, "I've finally convinced him that he lost his chances with me as soon as he crawled into his ex-lover's bed."

Andrew struggled to keep his composure at hearing this on dit about his hopefully still-future business partner. He wasn't quite sure how to deal with it, so he went with his first thought.

"Was it just the one time?"

Her outward wince made Andrew regret his impulse to ask such a thoughtless question.

"No."

"Oh. Same girl, then?" At the uttering of yet another brainless question, Andrew realized too late that his curiosity about Malfoy had gotten the better of him, making him callous to the woman he was addressing.

"No."

Oi! Shut it, Andrew! Your mouth isn't big enough for both feet! he scolded himself.

"Well, it seems Malfoy's loss is my gain," he smiled warmly at her and gave her fingers a small squeeze in an attempt to gloss over the rudeness of his faux pas. She tilted her head at him, a smile tugging at her lips.

"I'm glad you kissed me, Hermione. Draco certainly deserved to see that," Andrew winked conspiratorially at her and was rewarded with her delighted burst of laughter. Andrew discovered he definitely enjoyed watching her merriment reach the sparkling depths of her expresso-coloured eyes.

"So the Draco Malfoy, your former fiancè, thinks we're seeing each other?" he mused, letting her hand go so he could settle back into his chair, his hands gripping his mug.

"More than that, Drew, darling," Hermione answered, coyly batting her eyelashes. "Draco thinks we're sleeping together."

He grew silent and still at her words, trying to will away the sudden appearance of his very evident arousal. To distract himself, Andrew let his gaze follow her finger as it absently traced the ring of moisture left by the removal of his drink from the tabletop. Through lowered lashes she smiled lazily up at him, then added, "Not just sleeping, mind you, but having hot, passionate... sex with one another." She'd almost addedanimalistic since she was so throughly enjoying his reaction to her brazen words. But before the word could tumble out, she thought better of it.

As it was, Hermione had Andrew squirming in his seat fighting against the avalanche of memories that washed over him that featured their afternoon kiss. The recalled feel of her soft curves rubbing up against the hard length of his body had him wondering at his sudden loss of self-control. Being so ordered about by his libido had him feeling like a hormonal teen again.

This woman seemed to possess the unprecedented power to give fodder to in his overactive imagination with just a few select words.

He eyed her more closely. What was this woman about, anyway?

Despite her attempt at sexy bravado, Andrew saw telltale signs of nerves and whatever emotion it was that caused her hand to tremble and her cheeks to pink at her suggestion of their purported intimacies. Taking him by complete surprise, she quite suddenly clapped her hands together and covered her mouth. Her eyes twinkled, thrilled with herself, evidently.

"Why does it seem as though you believe our incredibly steamy snog, which despite your assurances, will be the cause of my financial downfall, is a very good thing? Please enlighten me, Miss Granger. I do find I am in need of a more positive outlook," he teased, finding himself all at once dazzled by her delight and curious about its cause.

"Oh!" she exclaimed lightly,"It's just that I've only realized that I don't care a whit about what Draco thinks about you and me! And I realize that I very much care about... well, that I rather like the idea of ..." her voice trailed off and she promptly took a swig of her spicy coffee drink.

"Of–?" Andrew prompted.

"The possibility of... ah... of something like that actually happening between us... because clearly we..." her voice drifted, but her gaze did not waver from his. She absently wet her lips with her tongue and the sight of this made Andrew's mouth go dry and he feared it was also hanging open in a most unappealing way. Even so, he couldn't help but prolong her discomfiture.

"And what exactly would that be, Miss Granger?"

Hermione's eyes flew open. He wouldn't actually maker her say it again, would he? By this time, Andrew had managed to pull his lips together and now a slight twitching at the corner of his mouth made her want to kiss his need to tease her away. She thought of something even better.

"Why, Andrew, I thought an intelligent man much like yourself would have figured it out by now," she whispered seductively. "I was hoping that we could finish what we started in Malfoy's office because those lips and that body of yours promised me something rather... mind-blowing. Unless of course, you make a habit of making those sorts of promises lightly."

Andrew blinked. Hard. And very nearly growled.

That's what you get for asking, my good man, he chided himself.

Gorgeous. Fiery. Witty. Intelligent. Wanted by another clearly more powerful man. And then there was that undefinable something about her that made Andrew sit up and take notice. Never had he been presented with such a golden opportunity.

Ever.

In his mind, if Draco might be considered the master of deception, then Andrew was in contrast, the master of truth. He never made a promise he couldn't keep. This, in fact, could be considered Mr. Wright's motto and everyone who was anyone knew he could be depended on to deliver on his word.

Promises, indeed.

This woman was unbelievable, Andrew mused. She was the most stimulating thing to have happened to him by far in his rather unexceptionally dull life of work, work, and more work. The outrageous flirtatiousness of her and his undeniable desire to ravish this intriguing woman atop this tiny cafe table right this very moment wasn't the usual modus operandi for the otherwise brainy Mr. Wright. Andrew was not the sort of man Hermione initially pegged him for.

In truth, Andrew had only just gotten used to the new life he'd built from near scratch. He'd never been very popular with the ladies considering his meager beginnings. With the exception of today, women like Miss Granger most definitely did not approach him.

It, in fact, was Andrew's secret belief that people of the upper strata could easily see beyond the guise of his well-fitted Armani suit. He also knew that he could never truly fit into the circle of modern-day aristocracy that the Malfoys of the world so easily navigated. He would always be the bloke who'd made it off the farm because of his father's untimely death. After all, it had been the windfall from his dad's life-insurance, which Andrew's mother insisted he use to help pay for college, that gave him the step up into the success his father always dreamed for him.

And it was this awful price that Andrew still could not reconcile himself with. His life in London was all due to his mother's unwavering strength and forward thinking after the nearly crippling blow of his father's unexpected death when he turned 13. And because of her, he found inside himself a scrappy determination, built on the memory of his hard-working father's hopes for his only son. This dream was what kept Andrew from falling into the abyss of self-doubt and self-blame.

As though it was yesterday, he regretfully remembered voicing aloud his desperate wish for a break, any break, so he could rise above his father's lot in life. Never did he ever imagine his success would come at so high a cost.

Through Andrew's teen years, when brawn had been more valuable than books, he'd ferociously kept at his studies. He'd stomached the taunts and worn the bruises with his eye always on the prize. His unwavering quest to make something of himself and his strong desire to "get away" had him seeking and earning a scholarship to study at Harvard University in the United States. He'd made it into England's most prestigious halls of learning but he wanted to see beyond the shores of home.

At Harvard, he befriended people whose sphere of influence encompassed mind boggling personages. It was through such cohorts that he'd learned the ways of ambitious, enterprising, and monied men. After graduation, sooner than he could list the top ten companies on the Fortune 500, Andrew found himself playing with the big boys.

In the past four years, he'd undergone something of a major transformation, long gone was the country bumpkin. And though he knew full well how fortune had smiled down upon him, Andrew remained a realist, just like his father before him. He knew he'd never be as slick as Draco, a well-groomed social animal who could make things happen with a hand flick and eyebrow raise. Andrew simply knew he needed a Draco, born and raised with money, on his side. Malfoy, or someone like him, was a necessary component to Andrew's life plan because there was one truth that would never dim for him, a history that wouldn't fail to drag Andrew back if he wasn't vigilant in his struggle against it.

Through all the rung climbing and tough times far away from home, Andrew had learned he had enough business acumen to reliably be the brains behind a fairly large operation. Harvard Law taught him that and his M.B.A. helped him make it a reality.

Andrew's playact at being both wealthy and powerful had been convincing enough to capture the interest of some far wealthier shareholders willing to back his cutting-edge business enterprise. But the true reason it all came together in the end was because of Andrew's stellar mind, which developed innovative ways to back-up all of his promises to his shareholders. This unfaltering ability to keep his word is an unusual trait for any business man to claim and it was the very reason for Andrew's swift climb up the corporate ladder.

Yes, promises.

Andrew knew all about those and he'd be damned if he ever broke any one of his. His word was his bond. It was what made him honorable and becoming an honorable man was what his father wanted most for him – what he wanted most for himself.

Now at the top of his game, only one signature short of accomplishing his life-long dream, Andrew discovered a new bounty.

He'd realized his instant attraction to Hermione Granger this morning over their cups of expresso, one black and one far too creamy. Then, to witness her in Malfoy's office with guns blazing had been a staggering surprise. Through the separated couple's interplay it had been abundantly clear to Andrew that with just a wiggle of her dainty little nose, Hermione could have had Malfoy and all his millions at her beck and call.

Yet, as unbelievable as it might seem, she'd wanted him— Andrew — and that knowledge was both incredibly humbling as well as an indescribable ego boost.

It was tempting to grab her and go, but considering these unfortunate circumstances, Andrew knew he needed to put the breaks on whatever this was with Hermione. And fast. It simply wouldn't do to get tangled up with her just as Malfoy was on the cusp of signing him on.

"Surely, you'd want to date first, Hermione," Andrew's voice was careful, but roughened with the tantalizing idea she'd placed in his head.

"Isn't that what we're doing, Andrew?" she replied innocently. Her doe-like gaze stopped his frantic imaginings in their tracks.

Her teasing, smiling eyes peeked over her mug of cinnamon latte. When she placed the drink back on the table, he discovered how his hand had a mind of its own. He watched as it reached over to gently touch a finger to her upper lip. He felt her gasp as his fingertip slid across the contours of it, he'd watched with satisfaction as her wide eyes darkened with surprise. He was hard pressed not to respond when he recognized the desire flare in the depths of her gaze.

"You had some foam there," he rumbled sexily, wishing nothing more than to be able to lead with the initial impulse he had in Malfoy's office to drag her off to his flat. Andrew watched, enthralled at the sight of her tongue darting out to check for any foamy remnants. She smiled cheekily at him. And it was that look, one of teasing and overabundant self-confidence, that Andrew realized this one just might be a keeper.

"I'd like to kiss you again, Hermione," he said, his voice low and inviting.

"You needn't ask," she smiled, a pretty blush colouring her cheeks as she moved closer to span the short distance between them.

Had he spoken his wish aloud?

As his head moved closer to hers, his fingers twined in her hair. Their lips met over half-empty mugs and crumb spattered plates. The electricity of their first kiss was but a mere echo to this one that they were now sharing. Lemon. Cinnamon. Coffee. Tart. Unbelievably sweet.

"Mmmm. chocolate," she whispered, after allowing herself one lingering taste of him before pulling away. He smiled, firming his grasp around the back of her neck before she could fully make her escape.

"We'll eventually see to blowing your mind," he whispered on a smile.

"Hmmm," she smiled, moving away again to lift her cup and knock it against his. "To dating, then, and to eventually satisfying our curiosity about that."

Impulsively, Andrew reached out again, impatiently pulling her lips to his once more. Their eyes met in heated awareness and she felt against her mouth rather than heard him breathe wondrously, "You're bewitching, Hermione Granger."

She chuckled a little at this and replied, "You've no idea, Andrew Wright... You truly have no idea."