"Okay." And more romantic, she thought as they carried out the dinnerware. Why shouldn't she enjoy a little starlight and wine with the man who'd just become her lover? There was nothing wrong with that.
"You've got that line between your eyebrows," he commented, sampling and approving her mixed salad. "The one you get when you're trying to calculate your bottom line."
"I was calculating how much of this steak I can eat without exploding." Eyes on her plate, she cut another bite. "It's wonderful."
"While I find it surprisingly satisfying to feed you, the food isn't what's bouncing around in your mind like a pinball." He started to ask her to look at him, then took the more direct route. He laid a hand on her bare thigh and watched her gaze shoot to his. "Why don't I make it easy for you? I want you to stay with me tonight."
She picked up her wineglass, fiddled with the stem. "I don't have any clothes."
"So we'll get up early, give you enough time to Swing by your place and change before work." He reached out, ran a fingertip down her throat. Such a long, slim throat. "I want to make love with you again. I want to sleep with you. Is that simple enough?"
Because it should have been, she nodded. "I'll stay, but I don't want any complaints when the alarm goes off at six."
He only smiled. It was a rare day for him not to be up already and jogging along the beach by six. "Whatever you say. Now, there's more. I said there were strings. I meant it."
That was what she'd been trying to keep neatly locked in the back of her mind. Wanting to choose her words with care, she continued to eat. "I'm not involved with anyone," she began.
"Yes, you are. You're involved with me."
A quick chill of warning ran down her spine. "I meant I'm not involved with anyone else. I don't intend to see anyone else while we're… involved. However it may seem by the way I came here tonight, sex isn't casual for me."
"Nothing's casual for you." He topped off his wine, then hers. "But sex is the easy part. It doesn't take a lot of thought, instinct kicks in, the body takes over."
His gaze rested on her face. Her eyes were wary, he noted, like those of a doe that had unexpectedly come across a stag in the woods. Or a hunter. "I have feelings for you."
Her heart bumped. She used knife and fork to cut meat as if the precise size and shape of it were paramount. "I think we've established that."
"Not just desires, Katherine. Feelings. I'd planned on sorting them out before we found ourselves at this stage. But…" He shrugged, ate, let her absorb the words. "I like maps."
&
nbsp; Her already baffled brain clicked over into complete confusion. "Maps."
"Points of interest. Routes from one place to the next. I like plotting them out. One of the reasons I'm interested in hotels is because they're like a world. Self-contained, full of movement and places and people."
As he spoke, he cut the bone from what was left of his meal, then did the same with Kate's. He gave each of the wide-eyed dogs a feast.
"Hotels are never really stationary. Just the building is. But inside there are births, deaths, politics, passions, celebrations, and tragedies. Like any world, it runs more or less a certain way, along a certain route. But the detours, the surprises, the problems, are always there. You explore them, enjoy them, solve them. I fucking love it."
She pondered as he sat back, lit one of his cigars. She had no earthly idea how they had shifted from a discussion on their relationship to his work, but it was fine with her. Relaxed again, she picked up her wine.
"That's why you're so good at your job. My aunt and uncle consider you the best, and they're very picky."
"We generally do our best with something we enjoy." He watched her through a haze of smoke. "I enjoy you."
Her smile spread slowly as she edged toward him. "Well, then."
"You're a detour," he murmured, taking her hand before it could become too busy, bringing it to his lips. "When I map out the particular world I'm moving in, I always anticipate a few detours."
"I'm a detour." She was insulted enough to tug her hand free. "That's flattering."
"It was meant to be." He grinned at her. "While I'm on this intriguing and very attractive alternate route, I don't intend to worry how long it will take to navigate it."
"And I'm along for the ride? Is that it?"
"I'd prefer saying we're in this together. Where we end up depends on both of us. But I know this. I want you with me. I haven't completely figured out why, but I can't get past the wanting part. When I look at you, it's enough."
No one had ever made her feel more desired. He'd used no soft, alluring words, composed no odes to her eyes, and yet she felt vital and alive and very much wanted. "I'm not sure whether I'm confused or seduced, but it seems to be enough for me, too."