Read Online Taming the Lion by Elizabeth Coldwell - Free Book Online Page B

counter then set about pouring Jon’s drink.
    “I don’t mean to be rude,” Jon said as he handed over a five-pound note in payment, “but I’m trying to place where you’re from.”
    “The Netherlands,” the barman replied. “Amsterdam, to be more precise.”
    “That’s a great city, so relaxed. I went over there a couple of times when I was a student and I loved it.”
    The barman grinned. “Yeah, don’t tell me. The girls, the dope…”
    Jon shook his head. “More like the museums, the Ann Frank House… Oh, and the boys.”
    He didn’t know why he’d added that last part, but the barman didn’t even blink. “Yeah, they’re pretty hot, too. Like this guy I had living opposite me. Used to walk around his apartment naked, showing off everything he had. But like you said, we’re pretty relaxed people, open to a lot of experiences.”
    Those last few words held a highly suggestive tone to Jon’s ears. Is he coming on to me, or is he like this with everyone? Before he was able to reply, a man in a polo shirt with the insignia of the city’s rugby club stitched on the breast arrived at the bar and began loudly placing his order.
    “If you’re interested,” the barman said to Jon, “I come off shift at ten. We could talk more then. I’m Kaspar, by the way.”
    That clearly wasn’t an offer this guy extended to everyone, however friendly he might be to his customers.
    “Jon.”
    “Okay, Jon. See you later.” He spoke the words as if he didn’t expect Jon to refuse.
    Jon took his beer and found a spot where he could lean against one of the big pillars that supported the roof. As he sipped from his glass and watched the people around him flirting and having fun, a gloomy mood descended on him.
    Am I making a mistake here? Did I agree to spend time with a complete stranger just because I saw Simon with that man in the pub? I mean, he might be the hottest guy I’ve spoken to in ages, but what on earth can someone as gorgeous as him see in me?
    By the time he’d finished his pint, he was overwhelmed with the urge to leave. Instead, he forced himself to go back to the bar and order a second. Some instinct told him if he walked away from this situation, he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Fate had brought him into this bar, on this night, to meet this particular man. And if he blew this chance, he feared he wouldn’t get another.
    This time, Jon was served by a pretty, dark-haired girl with a labret stud below her bottom lip. As she poured his drink, he was all too aware of Kaspar, apparently hard at work mixing a cocktail in a silver shaker, gazing at him with those strange, mesmerizing eyes.
    Jon retreated to his spot by the pillar and tried not to think about the mess his life had become. Why was he still letting a grade-A weasel like Simon Cundy get to him? If he were honest with himself, he just didn’t like knowing his ex had moved on so easily, while he was still eaten up with regrets and thoughts of what might have been.
    “Hey, you wanna go somewhere quieter?”
    At the sound of Kaspar’s voice, he looked up from where he’d been staring at the last half-inch of warm beer in his glass.
    “I’d love to.” Jon swallowed the dregs of his pint then set the glass down on a nearby table. He followed Kaspar out of the bar without a backwards look.
    “Do you want to get another beer somewhere else?” Kaspar asked.
    Jon shook his head. “To be honest, I’m not much of a drinker.”
    He hoped that didn’t make him sound like a lightweight. For reasons he didn’t quite understand, it seemed vital he make a good impression on Kaspar.
    They walked away from the bar, down into the heart of the SouthGate center. Jon kept glancing from Kaspar’s strong profile to the displays in the shop windows they passed then back again. He wanted to strike up a conversation but wasn’t quite sure what to say.
    At last, he spoke up, “So, have you been living in Bath long?”
    Kaspar shook his head.