EXCLUSIVE EXTRACTS FROM THE FINAL NOVEL IN THE CHAMPAGNE TRILOGY

Rory pulled me in close and began kissing me, his tongue made my body go weak'

WITH the green light to party, I put aside any reservations I might have had about the boys with marbles in their mouths (it turned out they were investment bankers) or the easy women who were hanging out of them, and decided to put my suspicious mind to bed for one night and enjoy being a young, free, sassy singleton in London.

Desperate to play catch-up, at the next bar we hit I knocked back two Mojitos and two Jager shots in the space of five minutes, and instantly felt more relaxed and in the party mood.

I was just settling into some man-spying when out of nowhere a drink came splashing over me, leaving me looking like I'd just done a circuit on Wipeout.

I'd got in the way of an all-out war between the bankers' not-so-high-class lady friends. They were screaming obscenities that clearly made sense to them and them only.While Parker sorted out the squabbling divas, Lisa came to my rescue, or so I thought, with a fresh outfit that she had in her overnight bag. We retreated to the bathroom, but it was only after I had stripped out of my wet uniform, and soggy Spanx, that Lisa handed me a pair of black wet-look leggings and a sparkly boob-tube.

'No way! I can't wear that! I'll look like one of those hookers who threw the drink over me!' Although Lisa pretended to be insulted, she was always striving for the sluttish look and loved it when people noticed her bad taste.

'Ah, Jaysus, Lisa,' I went on. 'Were you thinking of auditioning for Grease? Neither of us are exactly Olivia Newton John material.'

'Shut up and put them on.You're not in the Four Seasons now. You're in London baby, where nobody gives a s**t who you are or what you look like.' Having already thrown my wet clothes on the toilet floor, I didn't feel I had any other option than to put on Lisa's fresh outfit. So, with a heavy heart, I slipped into my disco costume and bounded out to Lisa, trying to feel upbeat.Waving my jazz hands for extra effect I struggled with a pathetic, 'Ta da!' But despite my enthusiasm, Lisa's concerned face spoke volumes.

Needing to see what she could, I pushed her out of the way to get a proper look at myself in the mirror, and nearly fainted with the shock.

'OH-MY-GOD! I've got a f***ing camel toe...'

Trying to salvage the situation, Lisa attempted to ease my stress with a weak, 'Not a big one,' before the two of us fell about the place laughing.

'Ah, Lisa, I can't go out like this. They'll start calling me Big Foot!' 'You'll be grand. Come on, let's get back outside. If you hang around here too long people might think you're a vending machine and start expecting you to spit out condoms!'

No doubt dying to parade me like I was her own life-size Slapper Barbie, Lisa pushed me out the door and into the path of a drunken Parker, who even when sober was possibly the most sarcastic man on the planet.

I was doing my best to conceal my modesty with my overloaded handbag when, back at the table, Lisa proudly announced, 'Eva's got something to show you all. She's brought a little friend out to play.'

Hopeful that she was just winding me up, I asked, 'I did?' But then unfortunately got the answer I was dreading. 'Look.' Lisa quickly whipped my bag out of my hands. 'Eva's brought her camel toe out to play. Say hello, everyone.' Unable to fight the unfolding joke at
my expense, I thought it best to go with it, and pointed both my hands towards my crotch, before taking an over-exaggerated curtsy to a rapturous round of applause.

Thankfully the lads had given the other ladies the heave-ho, so the night became immediately less stressful, and after finishing off our drinks we moved on to another private VIP club around the corner, which our banker friends said they had membership keys for. As we arrived at a closed iron-gated door, I felt a tad concerned that we might be being led into some whorehouse, but Jason assured me, 'This is one of the coolest clubs in town.'

Once upstairs it was as if we had stepped into another world. Dimly lit with deep red lights, the club wasn't a whorehouse but a gentlemen's club that allowed open-minded ladies. It was full of Friday-evening suits, just like our banker friends. We were all ushered to a table beside a stage area and told by the pretty blonde hostess, 'The usual, coming right up.' Pretty soon afterwards an ice bucket with vodka and cans of Red Bull was put on our table. The music in the room changed, and the lights dimmed further as the bottom of a black woman pushed itself out from behind a curtain.

As the audience of mostly men began to whoop and cheer, I could see Lisa's face fill with excitement. 'Having fun?' I asked.

'This is the best. I'm so glad I came over.'

Delighted that my friend was so pleased with our night out, my happy buzz was slightly dented when she pointed to the bikini-clad black woman and whispered, 'I have always wanted to be a dancer. Do you think they'd let me up?' Although I told her that this wasn't a karaoke night inviting punters to perform, Lisa was no longer listening to me. She was lost in adoration for the young dancer, who was by now doing lewd things to an innocent chair. Determined to get in on the act, Lisa started pulling tenners out of her purse, and reaching in and cheekily stuffing them through the dancers diamante bikini thong. Willingly accepting Lisa's notes, the dancer began to concentrate her gyrating in our direction, for which we were all exceptionally grateful.

A few dance routines later and this Valentine was fully up to speed. I'm not sure if it was the drink finally kicking in or just the energy from the lustful crowd around me, but before I knew what I was doing, I was standing up, dancing around my own chair, and putting on a show of my own. Clearly appreciating my performance, our new banker friends smiled and quietly watched me shaking my ass to Shakira, while Parker and Lisa attempted to wolf-whistle and knock back vodka at the same time. I was loving the music and the way it made me feel until I glanced over at the dancer on the stage beside me and I saw that she was mouthing something to me.

Unsure if I was seeing things, I asked Parker, 'What did she say?' He gaily replied, 'She said she'd like to eat your PEACH!'

Mortified that the dancer had also noticed my camel toe, I replied with a polite, 'Thank you,' and sat back down like I'd just been scolded at school.

Of course the rest of the table found it hilarious and chanted, 'Eat the peach, eat the peach!' Until one of the hostesses came over and asked them to keep it down.

Lisa no longer wanted to dance. 'You've stolen my moment, Eva, and why doesn't anyone want to eat my peach? I'm bored now. Let's move.' Assuring us that we had seen nothing yet, Jason took Lisa by the hand, who then grabbed me, who grabbed Parker, who grabbed the other guy, Jonathan, and we all walked hand-in-hand through the crowd to another closed door. Jason handed over a couple of fifties and we stepped into a different room.

As we settled into a corner, Jason led an eager Lisa up to the bar and told us, 'We'll be back with drinks.'

I was curious as to how Parker was coping with such a hetero evening. He chuckled, then told me, 'I'm not sure if my hair is curling because of that, or just the dampness in the air.' He turned to Jonathan jokingly, 'Don't suppose you fancy a snog?' Before Parker had a chance to crack another gag, Jonathan had lunged at him and started kissing him passionately. I glanced in the direction of Lisa and her banker only to see that they, too, were snogging the face off each other. I waited for the two boys to unlock their lips, but their embrace didn't seem to be slowing up, so all I could do was qui-etly laugh to myself and hope someone would arrive with a drink soon.

Thankfully, I didn't have to wait too long. But it wasn't Lisa who came to my aid, but an extremely handsome man sporting a sexy two-day-old stubble, who, much to my delight, wasn't wearing a suit. Over several glasses of champagne I learned that Rory Baxter was a TV cameraman for CNN who just got back from Uganda and he regularly travelled to war-torn countries.

Looking into his eyes as he spoke of the extreme poverty he had witnessed, I had to wonder how the hell a supposedly decent guy like him had ended up in a den of iniquity like this. No sooner had I questioned how genuine he might be, when I caught a glimpse of myself in a smoked mirror, and instantly felt cheap and tacky in my outfit.

Sensing my discomfort, Rory asked me, 'Are you OK?' Before getting a wave of paranoia himself, and questioning, 'Am I boring you?' Would you like me to leave you alone?' I reassured Rory that I was intrigued to hear his stories, even if the woman swinging half-naked over his shoulder was just a tad distracting. He apologised for being such, 'A serious drone,' which he claimed he always was for the first few days after one of his trips Not usually the best liar in the world, I amazed myself with the tall tales I told him. How I was loving training for the London marathon which I was hoping to raise money for Amnesty, and how I was hoping to study photography, as working in Sir Charlie's was just, 'A means to an end for the moment.'

Firmly sticking with the name Alice, I shamefully failed to mention my precious daughter Daisy, or the fact that I was about to have a little TV career of my own.

What was the harm I reasoned? After all, I was meant to be keeping my new career a secret and this guy Rory was too wholesome to
be believed. And it wasn't as if I'd ever see him again.

We were just in the middle of tracing Rory's Irish roots when Lisa found her way back to the table, and demanded I accompany her to
the toilet. Disgusted that I had to abandon my chat, I tried to be casual when I asked, 'Will you still be here when I get back?' And was relieved when his reply was a most definite, 'Of course... Don't be long.'

Hyper with excitement, the two of us practically skipped to the Ladies while screaming at each other, 'Oh-my- God, I've so much to tell
you.' In the interest of an easy life I suggested Lisa, 'Kiss and tell,' first, in the hope that she might actually listen to me when it came to my turn, instead of doing a, 'Yeah, yeah, yeah, OK, my go' on it like she usually did.

Unsurprisingly enough, Lisa just wanted to ask my permission to head off into the night with her new friend and, 'Ride him senseless.' It appeared the handsome Jason had an apartment close by and if she didn't leave soon, she'd just have to, 'shag him at the bar,' she was so horny.

'Now, how's your own evening going with that bearded new buddy of yours who looks like Gerald Butler?' Somehow the words, 'I've just met the man I want to marry,' popped out of my mouth without my even thinking it through. But strangely, I kinda meant it. Rory was a lovely guy, and even though I kept telling myself I would meet my Mr Right in the ready made meal section at M&S, I felt I had met him here, this night, in between the Friday night chaos of the gays, the gals and the scantily-clad lust objects.

Having heard it all before, Lisa put her arm around me before sarcastically telling me, 'But you want to marry everyone hon.' 'No I don't...' I argued. 'OK,' smiled Lisa, doing her best to plamás me. 'You might not want to marry all the boys... but you do marry more than your fair share of them.' 'Don't be right,' I pleaded. 'Not tonight. I just want have fun and fantasise about being happy. I deserve a
future, don't I?'

'Yes you do... And I deserve a ride. So with that thought, I'm out of here.' By the time I returned, Lisa and Jason had already left the bar, and Parker was still practising his tonsiltennis with Jonathan. But there, just where I'd left him, was Rory, as gorgeous as I remembered.

'That was too long,' he said smoothly, giving me a wink. I pulled my chair just a little closer to him as I sat down and apologised for the delay. 'My friend needed to say goodbye.'

'I saw her,' smiled Rory. 'She looked like she was in a hurry.' 'She's a very spontaneous girl. When she sees something she wants, she just goes for it...' Without meaning to be flirtatious, I had put myself on a plate.

Instantly taking the bait, Rory leaned closer, brushed my blonde fringe and said, 'You're not like most women are you?'

Embarrassed, all I could offer was, 'I dunno, am I not?'

'No, you're different. You've got soul.' Trying not to sound too disappointed, I repeated, 'Soul?' Like any other red-blooded female in a nightclub at 1am, I had been hoping for beautiful, or sexy... but soulful?

I hadn't seen that one coming. 'You're deep,' sighed Rory, as he continued to play with my hair. 'You're clearly a dedicated follower of fashion,' he laughed, looking down at my crazy outfit, 'but I won't hold that against you. I'd really like to find out more about you.'

As a wave of giddiness rippled up and down my body, I took it upon myself to repay him a compliment. 'I think you're deep too,' I said coyly. 'But I also more importantly think you're hot. What do you think about that?'

Stalling for time he threw his eyes up in the air and mused, 'I think... emm, I think...'

I gently punched his chest and questioned, 'I might be a deep thinker, but I'm not a mind reader.'

Before I had a chance to say another word, his eyes swooped down to meet mine and with a broad smile across his face he told me, 'I think you're hottest babe I've seen in a long time.After my last bad break-up I spent six months having meaningless sex with random women. That all stopped about a year ago now...'

A little taken back by his honest speech I nodded, 'OK,' but he put one of his large hands gently over my mouth to silence me, and continued, 'I'm not finished yet. I haven't chatted to a woman, a real person like you, in a long time. I'm a little out of practice... But I just wanted to be completely honest with you. Is that OK?'

A part of my heart sank after the lies I had told him but I nodded and decided to keep it simple. 'Kiss me.' Holding my small face in his large hands, Rory pulled me in close and began kissing me like a man. His masterful tongue made my body go weak as it bounced around inside my mouth, shooting waves of pleasure around my body.This wasn't just any kiss.This was a demonstration of what a good lover he'd be. He was strong and passionate, and most sexy of all, a real man.

Possibly starting to enjoy the kiss too much, I pulled back to see if he was feeling the same way as me.

'I'm sorry,' said Rory, looking down at his feet.

Unsure what for, I asked, 'Why?' 'I can't help it. I find you incredibly attractive...'

'Confused, I asked, 'And the problem is?'

'I want to make love to you. I desperately don't want to be the old me, but I can't help it. I think you're hot!'

Laughing off my nervousness, I grabbed his face and whispered, 'Well, let's do this. Let's do this now...'

Looking around the room for inspiration, I could see a little light bulb go off in his head.

'I've got an idea,' he smiled, while pointing his finger upstairs. 'Do you trust me?'

Extract from CHAMPAGNE SECRETS by Amanda Brunker, published by Transworld Ireland. © Amanda Brunker 2010.

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