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her.
     
    “ You know what Rupert, it's fine. I'm due for a phone upgrade soon. I have a spare I can use when the company sends me a replacement sim card.”
     
    “ Problem is, it stops me asking for your number.”
     
    “ No it doesn't. It merely means you'll have to wait to call,” she said tartly.
     
    “ I could give you mine and you could call me,” he challenged.
     
    “ I fear you'd be disappointed. In cat and mouse games I like to play the mouse.”
     
    “ Let me get a pen then.”
     
    Susan nearly passed out at the prospect of a date with Rupert. It had only taken fifteen years and building a career in musical theater to attract his attention. Dressed in a black bike shorts and an aged, baggy, over-sized black t-shirt with a peeling Nike logo on it, Susan's hair was tied in a pony tail. It was bewildering to figure out what he saw in her dressed this way.
     
    Returning with the pen, Rupert was offering the underside of his bare forearm for Susan to scribble her number on. As her left hand caught his right wrist to steady it for her to draw on, her body jolted with electricity. Wobbling, in large numerals she wrote the number on his tanned forearm.
     
    '“No name,” he observed. “How long will it take to get a new sim?”
     
    “ I think between three or five days by post. I can't cope that long without a phone, so I'll go in-store and pick one up before then.”
     
    “ I'll call soon. Perhaps we could grab a drink or coffee.”
     
    “ Won't the girl on the treadmill mind?”
     
    Casting a glance above her head, Rupert clocked Jasmine. “Jasmine? No she's a friend.”
     
    “ You sure?”
     
    “ Yes!”
     
    “ You appeared close, that's all.”
     
    “ You were checking me out from the bicycles.”
     
    “ You were checking me out on the bicycles to notice me checking you out,” retorted Susan mischievously.
     
    “ I may have,” Rupert paused. “Do I know you?”
     
    “ You tell me.”
     
    “ You called me Rupert.”
     
    “ So I did.”
     
    “ How did you know my name?”
     
    Establishing she'd been checking him out, Susan could have lied to say Jasmine or a member of staff told her. “People don't forget Rupert Locke-Smythe. I'm not unique. I'm like other people. Call me if you want, Rupert.”
     
    Dashing to the women's changing room, Susan showered and dressed. When she saw no further sign of Rupert, she fled the building.
     

CHAPTER 6
     
     
     
    “ I didn't think this was your kind of scene,” said Liz, taking in the Manhattan gallery's newest exhibition.
     
    “ It's not,” confirmed Rupert. “We're here for my sister.”
     
    Liz smiled. She often wondered if she'd ever get to meet Rupert's infamous sister. Tonight she would. Perhaps things were finally progressing between them.
     
    Rupert caught sight of his sister. Her arm looped with a well dressed, American who reminded him of the comic character “The Hulk”.
     
    “ She's over there,” whispered Rupert in Liz's ear. “I've no clue who she's carted here but let's dissect our opinion of him later.”
     
    Bedding and breakfasting with Rupert the following morning was something for her to enjoy tomorrow.
     
    “ Sister,” he greeted, with a kiss on the cheek.
     
    “ You must be Elizabeth, or can I call you Liz?” said Imogen to the woman.
     
    “ Liz is fine.”
     
    She was the opposite of her older brother, similar in color (no one ever guessed Imogen was adopted), but bursting with the energy of an atom. Tiny, petite and delicate, her fine features were enviable. Dressed in bright, bold colors, Imogen was stylish and elegant. Her dress was above the knee with fringe hanging from the skirt hem and along the bust The shoe-string straps were perfect to flaunt her golden color without being overtly sexual or common.
     
    “ This is Hank. He plays football.”
     
    “ Soccer?” clarified Rupert.
     
    “ American football. Your sister warned me of this.”
     
    Rupert accepted the brutish