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As the woman left them alone, she glanced around her. ‘Voice controlled? So exactly which part of it is voice controlled?’
Lucas was prowling around the suite, checking various details. ‘Everything. The lights. The blinds on the windows. The sound system. You can operate it all without once moving from the bed.’
His choice of words made her flush but fortunately he wasn’t looking at her.
‘So if I say music—’ She stopped, enchanted as the smooth notes of Chopin flowed through the room. ‘Oh that is so cool.’
Lucas observed her delight with a lifted eyebrow. ‘That is just the default track. List the track you want and it will play it. And you adjust the volume by saying “volume up” and “volume down”. I wish I could install something similar in my clients,’ he drawled. ‘And now you need to get dressed. I’m taking you to dinner.’
It was the last thing she’d expected him to say.
Ever since she’d woken this morning he’d been careful to keep his distance. He’d warned her off. Apart from that one unguarded confession in the kitchen, their relationship had reverted back to employer and employee. During the journey he’d been cold and more than a little intimidating.
But now he wanted to take her to dinner, in this beautifully romantic place where the sun was just setting?
She should say no. Her heart raced away in a frantic rhythm. ‘I don’t have anything to wear.’
His eyes were on his phone as he checked his emails. ‘Avery has just sent a message to confirm that she arranged for a selection of clothes to be delivered to your room. She’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow to shop for something to wear at the party.’
‘But—’
‘Whatever she’s picked out should hopefully be enough to get you through until the morning.’
But Emma wasn’t thinking about the dress. She was thinking about having dinner with him. She was wondering why he’d changed his mind. ‘Lucas—’ Her voice was croaky. ‘Is this a good idea? Do you really want to have dinner?’
‘Of course.’ He didn’t glance up from his emails. ‘The restaurant is the most complex part of this structure. I want to see whether the end result gives the dining experience that I hoped for when I designed it.’
Dining experience?
Emma stood still, horrified to realise how close she’d come to making a total fool of herself yet again. Once again, her brain had twisted his words. A week ago if he’d mentioned dinner she would have assumed it was all about business. Now, she was imagining soft words and the promise of something more, whereas the reality was that when he’d asked her to have dinner with him it hadn’t been a romantic proposition, but a practical one. It wasn’t that he wanted to have dinner with her. It was that he wanted to have dinner in the restaurant he’d designed, and she was supposed to accompany him.
She breathed deeply, hating the fact that she felt disappointed. And as for the hollow feeling inside her—well, she hated that too.
Registering her prolonged silence, he finally glanced up. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Nothing. I’ll just go and change.’
Enough, she thought as she walked quickly into the second bedroom.
Enough.
How much clearer could he make it? Where was her pride and her common sense? From now on she was going to think of him as her boss and nothing else. That way, she not only got to keep her job, she got to keep her sanity.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE situation was a thousand times more delicate to handle than he’d anticipated. He’d seen her face when he’d invited her to dinner and knew instantly that he’d made a major miscalculation. She’d wanted dinner to be something else. Despite all his warnings, she’d hoped. And he, who shattered women’s hopes on a regular basis without thought or care, had found it hard to shatter hers. But shatter them he had and she’d slipped quietly away to the second bedroom with her dignity intact and had been there ever since.
Cursing softly, Lucas dragged his hand over the back of his neck and wondered if she’d been crying. The thought disturbed him far more than he would have expected.
He checked his watch again. Should he knock on the door and check on her? Avery Scott was nothing if not ruthlessly efficient so he doubted that the problem was with the clothes. Something she’d provided was bound to fit, surely? So what was taking her so long?
Reluctant to become embroiled in an emotional conversation that could only make the situation between them even worse, he decided to give her another few minutes.
Restless, he paced through to the living room and switched on the news headlines. If nothing else it would provide him with dinner conversation.
