Fiona Hood-Stewart – One Night of Passion: The Night that Changed Everything / Champagne with a Celebrity / At the French Baron's Bidding (страница 21)
The noise of the dinner hour had abated and, as other diners left, their table, which was at the far end of the patio of the downtown Santa Barbara restaurant, became more isolated and intimate.
“Cup of coffee?” Nick murmured. He was watching her from beneath slightly lowered lids. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. Edie had no trouble remembering the taste of that mouth and the way his lips had felt pressed against hers.
It was time to go. Edie knew it. But going meant confronting the awareness sooner rather than later. And she wasn’t ready yet. She needed fortification. So she said yes to the cup of coffee. It was strong, black, a full-bodied Colombian roast. Meant to be savored. Meant, she suspected, to give her the stamina—and the caffeine—to stay up all night making love with him.
Which she would dearly love to do. Except …
She clutched the cup like a lifeline, stared into it, trying to find the words to say what she needed to say. Finally she lifted her gaze and met his. “We need to get something straight.”
At her tone one of Nick’s brows lifted. “Oh?”
She gave a jerky little dip of her head. Her fingers strangled the coffee mug as she plunged straight to the heart of the matter. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
Now both of Nick’s brows shot up. He sat up straighter, looking first surprised, then almost bemused. After a moment, he settled back in his chair and picked up his own cup, holding it easily. “Aren’t you?” His tone betrayed only mild interest, making Edie feel like an idiot. But she’d already begun, so she forged ahead.
“No. And yes, I know, you haven’t asked.” There, she’d pointed out the obvious, too. “But since we did once—” she took a quick breath “—I thought the issue could come up again.”
“It could,” Nick agreed. His tone was still mild, but there was a hint of something else, something deeper, yet definitely suggestive that told her she hadn’t entirely misread the situation.
She met his gaze head-on. “So I thought I should make it clear up-front that it’s not going to happen.”
For a long moment Nick didn’t say anything, but his gaze never wavered. Then finally, after what seemed like an eon, but was probably less than half a minute, he asked, “Why not?”
Edie swallowed. Her mouth was dry and her palms were damp, and she was already regretting having opened her mouth. She didn’t do confrontation. Ever. She was a negotiator, not a battler.
Now she said, “It isn’t that I didn’t enjoy it.” Her gaze dropped. She couldn’t look at him squarely now. “I did,” she admitted. Her cheeks were on fire.
“I’m glad.” Nick’s tone was grave, but when she dared look up, Edie thought she saw his lips twitch.
“You’re laughing at me.”
He shook his head. “I’m not. I’m … baffled.” He set down his cup and seemed to draw himself together. “I was under the impression that we had both enjoyed it.”
“Yes, well, um,” Edie said. “I’m glad you did, too. But that was it.”
“It?”
“A one-off. You said so yourself.”
She thought his jaw tightened fractionally, but in the shadows she couldn’t be sure.
“It wasn’t a hard and fast rule.” His tone was gruff. “I don’t turn into a pumpkin if I make love to a woman two times.”
Edie’s mouth curved into a reluctant smile. “I’m glad.”
“Do you?” he challenged her.
Slowly she shook her head. “Not a pumpkin, no.”
“Well, then?” he demanded. Their eyes met again. She didn’t see anger in his, thank heavens. It was more curiosity.
“I could fall in love with you.”
“What?” His cup hit the table with a decided
Edie shrugged. Too late to turn back now. “After … after Ben died,” she explained, “I felt like I’d died, too.”
Nick nodded almost impatiently. “Yeah.”
“Months passed. I wasn’t interested in going out. I didn’t care about dating again. I … wasn’t interested in any man.” She hesitated, then spelled it out. “Until you.”
“You don’t love me,” he protested.
“I know that!” Edie said fiercely. “But I like you.”
“Yeah, well, I like you, too,” he said, frowning. “But I’m not falling in love with you!”
“Exactly,” Edie said. “And if I am starting to feel things again, I don’t want to fall for someone who isn’t interested. I’ve already done that,” she told him.
He scowled. “When?”
“I was eighteen. Young, foolish. I should have known better. You remember the actor with my mother at Mont Chamion?”
“Him?” Nick looked appalled.
“He was charming. We dated. It meant more to me than it did to him.” She refused to go into all the bloody details. “It wasn’t like that with Ben,” she said. “So I know how it’s supposed to be.”
“You do, do you?” His dark eyes glittered with challenge.
But Edie had no doubts about that. She wrapped her fingers around the coffee mug and met his gaze squarely. “Yes.”
Nick’s mouth twisted. His fingers drummed lightly on the tabletop. With his other hand he carried his coffee cup to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. He still didn’t speak.
Neither did she. Just as well. She’d probably already said far too much.
The waiter came and refilled Nick’s cup, but Edie put a hand over hers and shook her head with a smile. “I’ve had enough,” she said. “I won’t sleep if I drink anymore.”
The waiter shot a conspiratorial male look in Nick’s direction. “Sleep is overrated.”
Nick made an inarticulate sound, then said harshly, “Could you bring the check, please.”
Edie reached for her purse. “I’ll get it.”
Dark eyes flashed. “The hell you will.”
“It’s business,” Edie protested. “My mother—”
“Your mother has nothing to do with this!” Nick pulled out his credit card and thrust it at the returning waiter before he could even reach the table.
“Really, Nick—”
“Stop arguing, Edie.” His tone was flat and uncompromising. “And put your wallet away.”
Reluctantly Edie put it away. “I don’t expect—”
“You’ve already made what you expect and don’t expect quite clear. Let me make something clear, too—when I invite a woman out to dinner, I expect to pay. Got it?”
“Got it,” Edie muttered.
The waiter came back with the tab, which Nick scanned quickly, nodded and signed, then tucked his card and the receipt back in his wallet.
“You can tax deduct it,” Edie suggested.
Nick glared at her. Then he stood and came around the table to pull out her chair for her before she could push the chair back and get up herself. All very gentlemanly and polite. Just as if she couldn’t hear him grinding his teeth.
“Thank you,” she mumbled as she stood. “And thank you for dinner.”
“My pleasure,” he lied. It had to be a lie. The hum of awareness was still there, but so was a sizzle of annoyance.
Edie quickened her steps as they headed for the exit. But the toe of her sandal caught on a protruding chair leg. She stumbled. Nick’s hand shot out to catch her arm and keep her from falling.
“Thank you,” she said, breathless.
“No problem,” he said, tersely.
The problem was that he didn’t let go. He walked beside her as they headed toward the lot where he’d parked the car, his fingers stayed on her arm. Through the thin cotton of her dress, she could feel them as if there was no barrier at all between them.
Once in the car, she gave him directions on how to get out of Santa Barbara and back up into the hills to Mona’s house. He’d found it himself during the day. She knew it wasn’t as easy at night. He didn’t argue. He didn’t discuss. He didn’t talk at all. He followed her instructions without comment.