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She smirked at him, dug deep for a confidence she didn’t feel. “Very.”
His eyebrows drew together. She didn’t respond, simply watched and waited. Even if she didn’t feel casual and carefree about their time together, she would not show him the turmoil inside her. Partly pride, partly embarrassment.
Perhaps a little bit of heartbreak, too, her devious mind whispered.
She saw him hesitate and sighed.
“Griffith, I don’t want things to be awkward. Last night was fun, but I’m not trying to stalk you. I just came down for some food.”
“I didn’t think you were.” He nodded toward the refrigerator. “Join me?”
“You don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t,” he said as he moved past her and opened the fridge door. “You’re hungry. I’m hungry. Join me.”
Put like that, there wasn’t a good reason to refuse. The “dining nook,” as Griffith had called it, was bigger than the kitchen and dining room in her small apartment put together. Set in a large alcove off the kitchen, the massive windows offered soothing views of the rose garden.
“How do you not spend more time here?”
He glanced out the window. Tension tightened his face for a moment before his expression smoothed out.
“Too far away from my work.”
The lie hurt. Ridiculous, she told herself as she speared a bite of peach covered in zesty dressing. They’d had sex once. He’d made it perfectly clear that after she left the chateau, they wouldn’t have anything else to do with each other on a personal level.
Except that when he’d made love to her, there had been moments, numerous moments, when she’d sensed something more from him. A sweetness that had not only relaxed her but also enhanced the experience of sharing her body with a man. An intimacy that had gone beyond the physical and into something that had rocked her to her core.
Perhaps, she brooded as she stared down at her panzanella salad, it had all been in her head. An intimacy born from years of built-up expectations and fantasies concocted from her readings. What had seemed like true love in the dark of night had more than once turned out to be a simple case of lust.
Not that I’m in love.
That was ridiculous. Griffith might be an incredible lover. But not only had he made it clear he had no interest in any type of actual relationship, he wasn’t the kind of man she wanted to build a life with. Cold, selfish, no interest in a family of his own.
You had great sex. Let the rest go. Move on.
She turned the conversation to something she was far more comfortable with: business.
“I saw your company announced your return date next month.”
“No work talk.” Before she could apologize, he leaned forward. “Tell me more about you.”
Flustered, she swallowed, then coughed on the peach. She took a large sip of sparkling wine.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. Just...not the question I was expecting.”
“Why not?”
Now she saw just why this man had been such an authoritative figure in the shipping industry. He could charm someone with that direct gaze of his. He might think his physical scars had marred his features to the point no one would want to look at him. But even with the jagged mark that cut down the left side of his face, the fading nicks and cuts on his cheek and jaw, he was still handsome. Handsome with an innate power that filled a room.
“Um...” She tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I’m not that interesting.”
His eyes sharpened. “You’re an American living in London and working for one of the most prestigious firms in estate law. You somehow talked your way into the Diamond Club. You’re very interesting.”
She barely stopped herself from preening. “Oh. Thank you.”
No one had thought her interesting before. Her parents had constantly complimented her hard work and initiative. Her teachers had sided with them, encouraging her to apply for scholarships, to get out of town before she got stuck.
