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‘There’s a place in the world for a good grilled cheese sandwich.’ He nodded. ‘But not here.’
‘Then what do you suggest?’
‘I suggest we leave it to the experts.’ He nodded at the maître d’, who, with a slight bow, left for the kitchen. ‘So, why are you working such intense hours?’ Leon sipped his champagne. ‘Do we not pay you enough to live on?’
She too took a sip and savoured the fizz of bubbles before replying. ‘I’m saving.’
‘For travel? A house?’
She laughed and shook her head. Was she really here to entertain him and take his mind off whatever torments he thought he had? ‘I’ve a younger sister who aspires to go to university.’
‘It’s just the two of you?’
She nodded and took another sip.
‘How old is she?’ His gaze narrowed.
‘Seventeen. She’s away at boarding school up north.’
‘You support her financially?’
‘She’s on a partial scholarship.’
‘And you pay the rest?’ His mouth tightened. ‘But you’re not that far out of school yourself.’
‘I’m twenty-three, so a few years out. It’s her last year, so it really counts.’
‘And she’s obviously talented.’
‘Top of her school.’ Ettie beamed with unashamed pride. ‘She’s amazing. She wants to study medicine. So.’ She inhaled deeply. ‘A lot of study.’ And a lot of tuition and living fees. But Ophelia was worth it and she’d do anything to see her achieve her dreams.
‘What happened to your parents?’
‘Twenty questions, huh?’ She sent him a look but answered anyway. ‘My father was never around. My mother passed away a couple of years ago.’
‘That must have been hard.’
It had been but she didn’t want to dwell on her mother’s slow decline with cancer. Not tonight. Not here. She smiled softly. ‘We’ve survived.’
She didn’t tell him about the huge mistake that she’d made not long after her mother’s death either. The total car crash that had been her love life.
‘What’s your sister’s name?’
‘Ophelia.’
‘Antoinette and Ophelia,’ he said quietly. ‘But you’re “Ettie”?’
‘Yes, fingers crossed neither of us suffers the delusions or disappointment of our namesakes.’ She sat back as the waiter appeared and placed dishes on the table. ‘My mother was a romantic.’ Not that she’d had any kind of romantic luck. Like mother, like daughter. ‘This looks amazing.’
She was pleased to have the interruption to the topic. And she realised she was absolutely starving.
He waited for her to take a bite, amusement softening his innate seriousness. ‘What do you think? Better than a grilled cheese sandwich?’
Ettie couldn’t answer, she was too busy salivating. But she finally swallowed her mouthful. ‘I’ve never eaten anything like it. It’s to die for.’
And that was all she could say, because she needed more this instant. He probably thought she was an idiot, but right this second she didn’t care. This was one of those rare experiences in life that had to be luxuriated in.
‘Here, try this.’ He pushed another plate towards her.
Ettie tasted what was, frankly, the food of the gods. Conversation turned to flavours and textures. Leon was animated, knowledgeable and entertaining as they debated which dish was the most delicious.
‘Do you have room for dessert?’ he teased her almost an hour later as she sat back with a satisfied sigh.
‘I should say no, because I’m not remotely hungry now...’ She trailed off.
When was she ever going to be in a restaurant like this again? With a man like this? It was a once-in-a-lifetime fantasy night and she didn’t want it to end.
‘What if we share?’ He offered her pure temptation.
She flashed a huge grin at him. ‘I get to pick, right?’ she said impulsively. ‘Because you can come here any time.’
He laughed a little beneath his breath. ‘Sure.’
‘Or maybe you should pick.’ She suddenly backpedalled, remembering the guy was all but her boss. ‘You probably know what’s good...’
There was a quizzical light in his eye and his eyebrows twitched. ‘I’m sure they’re all good.’ He turned and said something softly to the waiter who’d magically appeared with his impeccable service-required senses on full alert.
Ettie narrowed her gaze on Leon. ‘You did not just order every dessert on the menu.’
‘You don’t have to eat them all, just taste.’
Her jaw dropped at the decadence of the suggestion and she shook her head. ‘That’s wasteful.’
‘Then we can take the rest home for later,’ he said softly.
Ettie stilled, swamped with heat at the suggestion of intimacy that throwaway comment inferred. Was he assuming she’d go home with him tonight?
Images burned in her brain—of her licking a decadent chocolate dessert while in bed with him. Even better, licking said chocolate dessert off him.
‘Ettie?’ He was watching her closely as if he could read her mind. ‘You can take them home and have them for breakfast,’ he clarified in a slightly husky voice.
The less than subtle undercurrents between them were unbearably strong and gaining power with every passing second. She licked her suddenly dry lips and decided it was his turn to answer twenty questions. ‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’
He hesitated and for a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer.
But his mouth twisted. ‘I’m an only child. Spoilt little rich boy.’ His tone was mocking, but the edge of bitterness ran deeper than a mere joke.
‘But you built your own business, right?’ She knew his parents had that Greek hotel empire, but he’d gone into finance on his own. That was according to the official bio in his ‘most eligible bachelor’ blurb in the magazine Jess the housemaid had been flashing around this afternoon at work.
He shook his head. ‘I had every advantage—education, health, wealthy parents. While my business success is my own, I can’t rightly claim to have done it all by myself when I came from that starting point. Most people don’t get that privilege to begin with.’
‘But you made the most of your opportunities.’
Of course those schools, those contacts—sure they helped. But in the end, he had to do the work himself. And there were plenty of heirs to vast fortunes who’d frittered their lives away.
A lick of something indefinable flickered in his eyes. ‘I like to extract every possible success from every possible scenario. Yes.’
Again that undercurrent swept over her like a blanket of wild dizziness—sensuality of a kind she’d never encountered or imagined. Sexua
l tension so intense...but it was also teasing, almost fun. Which was surprising, given he was so very serious...and she so very inept at banter.
Two waiters appeared and set six dishes on the table. Six decadent desserts that were miniature works of culinary art.
‘They’re only small portions,’ she said softly, as if that made it better. ‘I imagine they’re rich.’
‘Why don’t you take a bite and find out?’ That tone was back—dry on the surface, but wicked beneath—daring her to take the risk, to take a bite of something so far out of her league. To taste something miles away from her realm of experience.
She picked up the silver fork and forced herself to focus on the glorious-looking food, rather than the man across the table mesmerising her. She took a moment to mentally debate which she should taste first—it was a three-way contest between the chocolate nirvana, the caramel or the raspberry heaven. In the end the chocolate won.
Ettie closed her eyes as she sucked the rich mousse from the spoon.
‘Good?’
It was impossible to answer him—the deliciousness too much to express. It was like all the good things in the world had been put together in the one flavour bomb and it had just burst on her tongue.
‘Have you tried this?’ she mumbled with her mouth full. ‘Because I’m not sure I can share after all. And there aren’t going to be any leftovers, sorry.’
Leon covered his mouth but she could see deep laughter dancing in his eyes.
‘Don’t hide your smile,’ she scolded recklessly, cross with him for hiding that spark from her. She just knew that had been a gorgeous smile and she wanted to bask in the full impact of it.
‘You have great teeth,’ she added dizzily as she swallowed more of the silken chocolate. ‘Are you afraid I might think you’re human? Because don’t worry, we all know you’re...’ She trailed off, suddenly aware she shouldn’t complete that rambling sentence.
‘I didn’t want you to think I was laughing at you,’ he said with mock-defensiveness. ‘Some women get sensitive about being seen enjoying food.’
Who? Those model-types he hung out with?
‘I’m not bothered,’ she said honestly. ‘I’m utterly unashamed about enjoying this...’ She breathed out and surveyed the luscious desserts still before her.
