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She believed him. From what she’d learned of him, he’d vaulted from pre-puberty straight into adulthood. Her search for those few vital adolescent years had come up empty in the time she’d had. As much as she didn’t want to be, she was intrigued by those missing years.
‘And it’s okay to admit you find me attractive, too,’ he added as he slid the car into gear and accelerated from her sanctuary.
Genie shrugged, eagerly falling back on firm and solid logic. ‘It’s a physiological reaction to the opposite sex. I’m confident I could line up fifty men on the street right now and guarantee I will have a similar reaction to at least two of them.’
From the dashboard lights she caught something distinctly...primitive flash in his eyes. ‘You’re sure about that?’
The tingling in her body escalated and that scent seemed to reach out to her, demanding that she breathe it...him...in... ‘Oh, yes. The very structure of our society has primed us to find more than one individual compatible enough to have sex with. Otherwise there wouldn’t be almost eight billion of us walking the earth.’ She tilted her head, allowed her gaze to trail him up and down. ‘Surely an exemplary specimen such as yourself wouldn’t conform to the archaic thinking that there is only one person for every human being on the planet? The proverbial soulmate?’
His nostrils flared, as if she’d touched a nerve.
Don’t pick on the weak.
She pursed her lips and gave it few moments’ thought. Was she stepping out of line? She didn’t think so.
She’d weighed up her opponent before embarking on this skirmish and she was sure—hell, she was confident—he had the mental dexterity to keep up with her.
‘For their sake, I’d advise you not to summon those fifty men in my presence. I won’t be responsible for my actions otherwise.’ There was a scalpel-sharp edge to his tone. A tightening of his grip around the steering wheel.
She frowned. ‘You’re...not pleased with my response.’
A short laugh grated from his throat. ‘I will let it slide just this once,pequeña,’ he rumbled.
His clenched jaw suggested the proposed ‘slide’ wasn’t an immediate thing, so Genie chose to remain silent for the rest of the short journey.
Silence continued to reign as they were seated in a private booth in a secluded part of the Mayfair restaurant that boasted three Michelin stars on a discreet plaque at the door.
But after he’d ordered wine and their first course had been delivered, she clasped her hands on the pristine napkin in her lap.
Time to lay a card or two on the table.
‘I struggle with social cues. You should know that.’
He looked up from his veal starter and fixed his eyes on her. Silence thudded between them for a long stretch. ‘Most geniuses do,’ he responded eventually.
There was that peculiar fluttering in her stomach again. She looked down at her scallops.
Maybe she should’ve stayed away from the molluscs. But...she’d never had an adverse effect from eating them before. Therefore the logical conclusion was that something else...orsomeoneelse was responsible for the sensation.
She looked up.
He was watching her with those leonine eyes. Was she expected to thank him? Was his response courteous or merely observatory?
Several minutes passed before she realised they were staring at one another. That his mouth, while unmoving, held the minutest hint of amusement.
‘Is something wrong with your food?’
‘I haven’t decided yet.’
‘Explain.’
Her grip tightened momentarily on her fork. ‘There’s a sensation in my stomach that I can’t apply a source to. Well, no, that’s not true. I mean, I’m not sure if it’s indigestion or...’
‘Or?’
Mild shock waves rippled through her. ‘I don’t think I have a precise name for it.’
This time his lips developed a distinct curve. A smile. A...transformative smile that held her attention completely. She’d known that he was a handsome man. But she hadn’t taken into account just how compelling a simple smile could be. How...enrapturing.
