Avril Tremayne – The Dating Game (страница 5)
‘Never mind.’ She turned her head to one side, then the other, assessing her face in the mirror. ‘I’m going to have to put on more mascara.’
‘You look fine without it.’
‘I’m blonde, in case you haven’t noticed. Which means my eyelashes are almost invisible.’ She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. ‘Mind you, you’re blond, too. How did you manage to score such dark eyelashes? Are they tinted?’
‘No they bloody well are not.’
‘Hey, there’s no shame in an eyelash tint.’ She examined his face. ‘Or a facial.’
‘My eyelashes are the result of genetics. And so is my skin, so do not mention the word “facial” to me again if you value your life.’
‘Oooh, touchy,’ she said, and her eyes were doing what he’d never thought possible and dancing. ‘Seriously, though, do you know how much it hurts when a guy gets that combination? Blond, with dark eyelashes?’
‘Yes. Margaret, who is also blonde, used to tell me all the time. Which is how I know I’m not going to win the mascara fight. So go right ahead and slap it on.’
Sarah dug in her bag again and pulled out a tube of mascara. David was starting to think that tiny bag of hers had mystical qualities, given how many objects went in and came out of it. She brushed on the mascara with the speed and accuracy of an expert cosmetician. ‘There,’ she said, putting the tube in her bag along with his handkerchief. She batted her eyelashes at David as she retrieved the compact he’d been holding for her, popped it in with everything else and snapped the bag closed.
‘Hang on, there’s a clump at the corner,’ he said, and reached out to pinch one of her outer eyelashes between his thumb and forefinger. Did she jump a little? He wasn’t sure, but he thought—hoped?—she had. He stood back to examine her. ‘Better.’
‘Your ex-wife teach you that?’
‘Let’s just say I know my way around a tube of mascara.’
‘Oh you do, do you?’
‘Not from personal use, brat!’
‘If you say so,’ she sing-songed, and tried to move past him.
‘Hey—what about my handkerchief?’
She stopped. ‘You want it back?’
‘Yes.’
‘Even though it’s not a Galaxy-esque pocket square?’
‘Even so.’
‘Fine. I’ll wash it and … and … Oh.’ Her eyes widened. Surprise? Fear? No—guilt! ‘I’ll wash it and give it to Lane for you.’
Ah. Lane. The fly in his ointment. ‘I’d prefer you to wash it and bring it back to me yourself.’
Sarah eyed him warily. ‘Why?’
Out of options. ‘Because I want you to pose for me.’
And at last he had her full attention. Which had him questioning why he hadn’t led with that straight off the bat. But he knew why: the possibility of being turned down flat. Her initial animosity had been almost palpable, whereas
‘Can you repeat that?’ she asked.
‘I want you to pose for me.’
‘What does that mean? “Pose”?’
‘Pose as in for a painting. As in I’m entering the Langman Portrait Prize and I want you to be my model.’
‘But you’re a banker.’
‘Who also paints.’
A moment of staring, and then she sucked in a breath and … and
‘Oh, you see what?’
‘You want to paint me naked, don’t you?’
‘Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of—’
‘Lane mentioned your interest in paintings when she introduced us, remember?’
‘Or should I say your “etchings”? I’ve heard
David could actually feel a blush start to heat his face. And he never blushed. Talk about old pick-up lines coming back to haunt a guy! ‘That’s different.’
‘Are you telling me you don’t want to get Lane naked?’
‘Yes, I’m telling you that.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Let me put it in context,’ he said. ‘I
‘That sounds like an obfuscation to me. Only an hour ago, I saw you look at Lane in that … that
‘I may well have looked at her in that “way” an hour ago. But fifty-nine minutes ago, she introduced me to your brother Adam, and it became very clear to me that nobody except him was going to be seeing her naked from now on.’
‘I’m not so sure about that,’ she said darkly—and she was looking at him like he was the enemy again. Ah well, one step forward, two steps back.
‘If you want to talk about people looking at each other in a certain “way”, let’s talk about the way your brother looked at me,’ he said. ‘Like he was visualizing tearing me limb from limb with his teeth.’ He gave an extravagant shudder. ‘I have the strongest objection to being gnawed on by jealous men.’
She looked at him for the longest time, and then said, ‘What if I told you Lane likes you better?’
‘I’d say you’re wrong.’
‘What if I’m right?’
‘You’re not.’
‘They—Adam and Lane—have a very
‘Which has nothing to do with me.’
‘It might have something to do with you.’
‘It doesn’t.’
She made a huffing sound. ‘Look, can you give me something to work with here?’
Something to work with? One step forward. ‘All right. I’ll say to you that
‘Why not?’
‘Because that would complicate things between you and me.’
She pursed her lips, looking uncertain. ‘You mean …? What do you mean? That painting me is better than having sex with Lane?’
‘I haven’t done either yet, so that’s impossible to answer.’
‘Aha! You said “yet”! That’s a prevarication.’
‘Obfuscation. Prevarication. You’re a tough nut to crack, thesaurus girl. I’ll tell you what. If you’re going to be obsessed with my sex life, there’s an easy solution: have sex with me yourself.’
She gaped at him. ‘You— I— That—’
‘That way, I won’t have the energy to think about Lane, and Lane can concentrate on Adam, and all four of us will be happy.’