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She breathed in, trying not to look like a teenager. Her hand was still resting on his chest. Through his thin T-shirt she could feel the warmth of his skin and the roughened hairs underneath the palm of her hand. Her brain tried to make sense of things.
This time yesterday she hadn’t known this man. She hadn’t even known he existed.
‘Chicken.’ The word came out of nowhere. ‘You forgot the chicken.’
She tilted her head and smiled up at him. Her nose was directly across from his chest. Too close for comfort really. Especially now she could see the tiny shadow along his jaw line. Why did her hand want to reach up and touch it?
His arm folded around her waist and he pulled her closer and spun her around as a large group of tourists swept past. He was looking down at her with those deep brown eyes. It was almost as if he knew she was a little mesmerised. Truth was, he must be used to it.
‘Didn’t want you to get trampled.’ He laughed as his accent played havoc with her senses. ‘And chicken.’ He shook his head again. ‘Let’s not forget the chicken.’
He reached behind her, his chin brushing against her hair, and plucked a thin cylindrical box from a stand. ‘Your orange creams, I suppose?’
She closed her hands around the tube. ‘Perfect.’
He paused. It was almost as if something else flitted past his brain. He was leaning over her, seeing every part of her up close and personal. If he tilted his chin down just a touch...
She wished she’d put on more make-up—heavier foundation instead of her usual tinted moisturiser. Longer-lasting lipstick rather than her light lip tint.
She could almost feel herself disintegrate under his gaze. What did he see? And how did she compare to what he was used to?
She tried to squeeze that thought from her mind. Why should she care? She barely knew him. So what if he’d just gone out of his way to help her? The truth was he was still invading the space she’d thought she would have for the next two weeks. Her skin was prickling under his intense gaze. There was a whole wave of sensations sweeping across her. And she couldn’t fathom any one of them.
Reuben gave a little shake and stepped back. It was almost as if nothing had happened. He pulled up a trolley next to them and started loading up his selection from the counter. He pointed to item after item and she blinked at the price tags. Chicken stuffed with haggis and wrapped in bacon. Chicken with chorizo and a tomato sauce. Chicken with peppered sauce and mushrooms all packaged up before her eyes. If she hadn’t been hungry before she was definitely hungry now.
And it seemed once Reuben started to shop he could do it like a pro. Sirloin steaks—enough to last the fortnight. More pepper sauce. Salad. Fresh bread, pastries and croissants. Her raspberry jam. Bacon, eggs and sausages. A whole heap of vegetables. Biscuits, chocolates and a really, really good-looking fresh cream gateau.
Lara looked at the groaning trolley and nudged him.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘I don’t think people really do their weekly shop in here,’ she whispered, her eyes taking in the other customers, who had maybe one or two items in their hands. ‘At this rate we’ll need to remortgage Caleb’s house for the food bill.’
He looked surprised. ‘I’m covering the food bill. Don’t worry. You didn’t expect me there and I should contribute something.’
He made it all sound so reasonable, while her purse was currently screaming out in relief. There was no way she could pay half of a bill like this. ‘Fancy a bottle of wine?’ he asked, as they walked further along.
She glanced at the nearest shelf. Two hundred pounds a bottle. ‘Er...no, thanks.’
He moved the trolley forward then stopped again. ‘It was rosé you were drinking last night, wasn’t it?’
He put three bottles in the trolley before she had a chance to answer, then he picked a bottle of red and one of white too. She could feel herself breaking out in a cold sweat at these prices. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t footing the bill.
She leaned forward and hissed in his ear, ‘Put those back. You can buy wine for less than ten pounds a bottle in the supermarket down the road.’
The corners of his lips turned up in amusement. He walked over to the nearest cash register and handed over his credit card without anything being run up. The cashier nodded, swiped it and handed it back, taking a note of the ticket for his car.
He slipped an arm around her back and led her to the stairs. Lara’s head was turned backwards, staring at the cashier. ‘Really? You don’t even put in your PIN?’
He shook his head. ‘I trust these people. By the time we want to leave the car will be loaded up and ready to go.’
She shook her head as she climbed the stairs. The jewellery section was right in front of them. ‘Let’s go upstairs for a coffee. Food shopping makes me hungry.’ Now, that she could agree with.
She wandered through the jewellery department—most of the jewellery didn’t have price tags, which told her everything she needed to know. While she didn’t know how much things actually cost, she could just do her little-girl-in-a-shop state of mind and pretend that they could all be hers.
She stopped suddenly and Reuben walked right into her. She hadn’t realised he was so close. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured.
He followed her eyeline to the side and pointed. ‘You’re looking at that?’ His face was screwed up in that a-guy-will-never-understand kind of way.
She nodded. ‘It’s gorgeous. It’s like something Cleopatra would wear.’ She moved a little closer but resisted the temptation to touch the glass. Interlocked flat panels of white, yellow and rose gold. One of the fashion magazines would probably describe it as a showstopper. And it was.
She moved further along and stopped and pointed at a large square-cut pink diamond surrounded by white diamonds. She was too scared to even breathe next to it. ‘Bet we’d really need to remortgage Caleb’s house for that.’
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