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No black dress this time—he didn’t know whether to be sorry or relieved. Instead she wore a pair of fitted narrow-legged black pants, high boots and a skirted coat with a wide belt that covered her curves. No matter. He had every intention of taking her somewhere warm, so by the end of the evening she would be wearing far fewer clothes if it all went to plan.
Seated opposite her at a table in the alcove of the bay window in one of his favorite restaurants, Callum smiled in satisfaction as he took in the sensual sheen of the gray satin blouse she wore. So far so good. He watched as she studied the menu, that endearing frown furrowing her brow. When she snapped the menu shut, she caught him staring. Callum raised his champagne flute and took a quick sip.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You do things with so much concentration—it takes your whole being.” He set the glass down on the white linen cloth.
Miranda looked down and fiddled with her fork. She looked embarrassed as she said, “Some people say I’m too single-minded.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“You think?” She abandoned the fork, and her gaze locked with his. “I’ve been told it’s unfeminine.”
He chuckled. “There’s not an unfeminine bone in your body.” His gaze traced the dark brows, the gentle curve of her cheek and settled on her lush mouth. Her tongue came out and moistened her bottom lip. Callum quickly raised his eyes. She was staring at him, her dark eyes wide and a little shocked.
There was no doubt that he must’ve revealed some of the insatiable hunger she roused in him.
To play down the moment, he couldn’t resist asking, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No reason.” She flushed and glanced away, picking up her serviette and spreading it out before laying it on her lap. The heat that smoldered whenever he was near her ignited.
Miranda was every bit as aware of him as he was of her. He wished she would give in to the inevitable. Couldn’t she see they were destined to be lovers?
Then she looked up. “For some reason this feels like a date.” She pointed at the tall crystal flutes and the arrangement of white roses on the table. “I told you I didn’t want to date you.” But a slight smile softened her words.
A waiter arrived and lit the squat white candle with a taper, before taking their orders.
Once he’d topped their glasses and collected the menus he departed, Callum took up the conversation where they’d left off. “It’s not a date—it’s a business meeting.”
He fought back a grin at her expression of disbelief.
She snorted. “You bring business colleagues here on a Friday night?”
He raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. “I’ve been known to invite business associates on a Saturday night for dinner—I’m a busy man.”
“I accept you’d bring your brothers here. But what about Gordon? Or Tom Murray? Tom must love the champagne, huh?” She raised her glass in a mock salute.
This time he couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face. “We do celebrate business ventures sometimes.”
Miranda set her glass down. “And mergers?”
Quietly he said, “I told Petra our relationship was over.”
The mood changed. All lighthearted banter stilled. A sizzling tension filled the space between them.
“You broke up with her?” Dismay darkened the caramel eyes to a shade of chocolate. “I never wanted that.”
“Over a week ago.”
An unreadable expression flashed across her face. “Over a week ago?” she asked. “And you said nothing?”
“It had nothing to do with you,” he lied.
It had everything to do with Miranda. He’d been very content with the notion of settling down with Petra until Miranda came along and stirred up his libido, leaving him hungering for so much more. They were so good together. Yet she stubbornly refused to acknowledge that…he could pretend, too, if that’s what he wanted.
Callum leaned forward. “This is a meeting. And don’t let the champagne bother you—it’s tax deductible.”
“Tax deductible?” Miranda scoffed, but the annoyance had ebbed and, to his relief, amusement lurked behind the shadows in her eyes.
