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Gina stared at him doubtfully. ‘Could you afford to do that? And would enough people want you?’
His eyes were deep pools of laughter. ‘If I had a problem with the size of my ego you’d be the perfect antidote. But, in answer to your question, I have enough contacts to succeed.’
Independent to the last. Nothing had changed, not really. He might have decided to establish some kind of base in his life but he was still a free spirit, not willing to be answerable to anyone, even in his work life.
Smothering her anguish with difficulty, Gina nodded. ‘Lucky you,’ she said as nonchalantly as she could manage. ‘It sounds the perfect scenario.’
‘I think so,’ he agreed. Taking another large bite of the flan, he chewed and swallowed before saying, ‘What do you think of my cooking expertise, then?’
Surmising he’d had enough intense conversation for one day, she tried to match his lightness. ‘Marks out of ten?’ She tilted her head, as though considering. ‘Eight, nine, perhaps.’
‘Not the full quota?’ he asked in mock disappointment. ‘I can see you’re a very hard lady to impress.’
‘Absolutely.’ A shaft of sunlight was touching the ebony hair, slanting across the hard, tanned face and picking out the blue-and-red pattern on the plates. She wondered how you could love someone so much you ached and trembled with it and yet it didn’t show. ‘But you’ve won regarding the pooches. I’ll help this afternoon. For their sake, though,’ she added with what she thought was admirable casualness. ‘Not yours.’
She’d expected some laughing words of thanks, or a teasing remark, along the lines that he knew she wouldn’t hold out against him and the puppies. Instead, his eyes stroking over her face, he said gently, ‘Thank you, Gina. You’re a very special lady.’
Don’t. Don’t do tender. She could cope with almost anything else but that. The lump in her throat prevented speech, and she wasn’t going to risk her luck by trying to force the words past it. Instead she compromised with a bright smile.
It seemed to satisfy him, if the warmth in his eyes was anything to go by. Feeling as though she was swimming against the tide and liable to drown at any moment, she applied herself to the food on her plate, even though each mouthful could have been sawdust for all the impact it made on her taste buds.
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