In spite of herself, she couldn’t help the wry little twist of her lips. ‘And here’s Pam telling me you don’t have a sense of humour.’
He leaned back in his chair. ‘Pam said that?’
She toyed with the stem of her wine glass and ventured, ‘Maybe it’s her way of saying you should loosen up some.’
He cocked his head as if the notion was absurd. ‘And what do you think?’
‘From what I’ve seen in the office today, she may have a point. Then again, there’s this other side she obviously hasn’t seen that kind of balances everything out.’
His lips curved. ‘You’re talking about my sharp wit and immeasurable charm.’
‘Naturally.’
His smile widened to a grin for a split second, but then it faded and something other than humour stole into his eyes. Something darker, harder, more ruthless. He was silent a moment, staring into space. ‘I run a multimillion-dollar company, Sophie. It’s my life’s ambition, my reason to get up in the morning, my passion.’ He picked up his dessert spoon and drew circles on the heavy white cloth. ‘Sometimes I forget that employees have priorities other than their nine-to-five job at Sanderson’s.’
Sophie nodded. There was a sense of remoteness about him. As if he was used to distancing himself from the rest of the world. She picked her way carefully, watching his expression as she said, ‘She also mentioned Crystal and Melissa and how you’ve been brilliant with them.’
His distance remained, his expression shut down. A barrier she couldn’t cross. ‘The business is the reason I’ve been able to afford to give my sisters something of what they’ve missed out on over the past twelve years. Enough about that. We’ve more interesting matters to discuss.’
His relaxed convivial demeanour returned as if he’d flicked a switch. How did he do that? she wondered. How could he turn his emotions off so easily and so completely? She only wished she had the same ability.
She finished the remainder of her wine while she studied the mouth-watering layers of hazelnut sponge, white chocolate and blackberry coulis in front of them.
‘I ordered this concoction for a reason.’
‘I can see that.’ She was tempted to ask if he was going to feed it to her and watch her moan in pleasure. After all they both knew how the story went… She pressed her tingling lips together. Thank heavens they were in a public place because she was appalled to think how easily she’d let him seduce her if they were somewhere more private.
But as she watched him dip his spoon into the cake, add cream and lift it towards her mouth it was like falling into a hypnotic state.
Especially when he murmured, ‘Open up, Sophie,’ in that deep silky sexy timbre that made her think of dark chocolate…and a different set of circumstances when he might say those words.
He was thinking the same thing because his eyes seemed to take on a smoky gleam as he leaned closer, offering the spoon.
Her heart stopped, thumped once then pounded out a fast rhythm and her mouth fell open of its own volition. He slid the cake between her lips. Smooth, slow, slippery. She couldn’t look away—it was as if he held her captive. She sucked the delicious mouthful from the spoon. He’d engineered this sneaky…whatever-it-was…and she’d played right into his subversion.
‘What’s the verdict?’ he asked.
‘It’s nice,’ she managed. It wasn’t only her tongue; every part of her was out of kilter. She gave herself a mental shake and made every attempt to pull herself together.
‘Nice? Is that the best you can do?’
‘Right now?’ she snapped out—but quietly. ‘Yes, it is.’
He grinned slowly. Using the same spoon, he scooped up another morsel and popped it into his own mouth. Still watching her. Still with that smoky gleam in his eyes.
She picked up her own spoon. ‘Remember where we are.’
‘And the reason we’re here.’
She watched him through narrowed eyes while she ate. When she’d almost finished, she said, ‘This dessert wasn’t on the menu, was it? You ordered it specially.’
‘It was worth it, don’t you agree?’
‘Your business dinner’s a fake and we both know it.’ She scooped up a final mouthful, then sat back and crossed her arms.
‘No,’ he said slowly, as if talking to a child. ‘We do need to discuss Noosa.’
Suddenly it was decision time and she wasn’t sure she knew the right answer. Or if he was even going to ask the question. ‘I plan to spend the upcoming weekend familiarising myself wi—’