It was hardly the most exciting of conversational topics but she was finding it hard to keep her mind off his hands. She could recall them on her body and, despite the heat of the sun, shivers were skating down her spine. But she’d been here before and wasn’t the definition of madness doing something over and over again, expecting different results?
‘Occasionally,’ he said, breaking open a roll and stuffing it with slices of presunto. ‘I eat out a lot.’
‘For work?’
‘Yes. Before I took over as CEO, I was in charge of PR and marketing. It involved a lot of wining and dining.’
‘I bet you were good at that.’
He flashed her a quick, dazzling grin. ‘I was very good at that.’
He was very good at everything. Except, she rather thought, answering some of her questions truthfully.
‘So how did you become CEO?’ she asked, popping a piece of soft, creamy cheese into her mouth and almost groaning with delight as the flavour burst on her tongue.
‘My father wanted to retire,’ he said smoothly. ‘The timing was right.’
‘Any charges of nepotism?’
‘Some.’
‘Disproved?’
‘I would hope so.’
‘I signed you up shortly after.’
He regarded her thoughtfully. ‘You’re good with dates.’
‘I have to be. For my job. So where do you live?’ she asked before he could start questioning her about dates of a different kind, which, in her case, were non-existent. He’d once described Casa do São Romão as his home, and maybe it had been for a while, but no one had been living there for a long time.
‘I have an apartment in Porto.’
‘That’s a long way.’
‘It is,’ he agreed with a nod.
‘Do you go there every evening and return every morning?’
‘No. I’ve been staying here. At the Casa. Where I first found you.’
She spun back to the moment this had all begun, remembering how hostile and grim-faced he’d been back then—was it really only four days ago?—and her heart skipped a beat. Was he sleeping in the bed she’d slept in? On the same sheets? For some reason that felt incredibly intimate and her cheeks heated.
‘What’s the story there?’ she asked distractedly, trying to get the fluster and the blush she could feel hitting her face under control.
‘What do you mean?’
Oh, no.
Her heart gave a lurch and her gaze flew to his. He’d gone very still, the lazy smile nowhere to be seen, his guard sky high, and she wished she could retract the question because she genuinely hadn’t meant to ask. But now she had, she wasn’t about to take it back. The curiosity had been killing her. ‘The house was a total mess.’
His eyes shadowed for a moment. ‘Yes.’
‘What happened?’
‘The cleaner quit.’
She didn’t believe that for a moment. ‘You should have asked me to find you another.’
‘It must have slipped my mind.’
No, it hadn’t. She doubted it had even crossed his mind, and part of her wanted to press him on it, but his jaw was rigid, his eyes were dark and his expression was filled with...yes, anguish.
Her heart turned over and her throat tightened, and she ruthlessly quelled the questions spinning round her head. She couldn’t make it worse for him. This time of year had to be awful enough anyway. His son had been stillborn in early May. His wife had died six weeks later. Three years ago next fortnight, in fact. On both occasions her company had sent flowers, a wholly inadequate gesture, she’d thought at the time, if conventionally appropriate.
‘I believe we were going to have a discussion about tricks,’ she said, now deeply regretting the fact that she’d invaded his privacy and desperately seeking a way to lighten the mood.
As she’d hoped, the anguish faded and a gleam lit the dark, stormy depths of his eyes, and some of the tension gripping her muscles eased.
‘I’m intrigued by the ones you think I know.’
‘Well, obviously I don’t have details,’ she said, putting her plate to one side, her appetite gone. ‘But I’ve read the gossip. You’ve slept with a lot of women.’
‘You shouldn’t believe everything you read.’
‘Do you deny it?’
‘No.’
‘How many?’
‘I’ve never kept count.’
‘That many? You must have tricks.’
‘I don’t,’ he said simply. ‘What I do have is instinct. I watch, listen and learn. There’s no manual and there are no expectations other than that everyone has a great time.’
Everyone? How many women did he have at once? God, the sun really was scorching today. ‘Do you really think that the only way to get rid of attraction is by giving in to it?’
‘Yes.’
He sounded adamant, but surely his wife had to have been the exception. Presumably in marriage, the continuation of attraction was a bonus rather a hindrance. But then, what did she know? She was hardly an expert. She’d once planned to marry a man to whom she’d only very tepidly been attracted, which boggled the mind because if she compared the effect Matt had had on her with that of Duarte, well, there was no comparison.
‘As I mentioned,’ she said, determinedly ignoring the unacceptable longing to know more about his marriage when she’d already probed far too much, ‘my experience is limited.’
He arched one dark eyebrow. ‘The ex-fiancé?’
‘Yes. And it wasn’t all that great.’