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Elise opened a desk drawer and withdrew a brown leather bag. “Since my schedule is mysteriously clear, lunch it is. On one condition.” She cocked her head, sending her dark hair swinging against her chin. “Don’t evade, change the subject or try to outsmart me. Answer the questions so we can be done.”
“Aww. You’re not enjoying this?” He was. It was the most fun he’d had with a woman he wasn’t dating in his life.
“You’re quite honestly the most difficult, disturbing, contrary client I’ve ever dealt with.” She swept passed him in a cloud of unidentifiable perfume that hit him in the solar plexus, and then she shot back over her shoulder, “Which means you’re paying. But I’m driving.”
He grinned and followed her to the parking lot, then slid into the passenger seat of the sleek Corvette she motioned to. He would have opened her door, but she beat him to it.
New car smell wrapped around him. “Nice ride. I pegged you for more of a Toyota girl.”
She shrugged. “Even fairy godmothers like to arrive at the ball in style.”
“I’m not threatened by a woman driving, by the way.” He crossed his arms so he didn’t accidentally brush shoulders with Elise. The seats were really close together. Perfect for lovers. Not so good for business associates. “Just in case you were worried.”
Elise selected an out-of-the-way bistro-type place without asking him and told the hostess they’d prefer to sit outside, also without his input. The wrought iron chairs and tables on the terrace added French charm and the wine list was passable, so he didn’t mind. But two could play that game, so he ordered a bottle of Chianti and nodded to the waiter to pour Elise a glass whether she wanted one or not.
“To loosen you up?” she asked pertly and picked up her glass to sniff the bloodred wine with appreciation.
“Nah. To loosen you up.” He dinged their rims together and watched her drink. Elise liked red wine. He filed that tidbit away. “I didn’t actually agree to your condition, you know.”
“I noticed. I’m banking on the fact that you’re a busy man and can’t continually take time away from work to finish something you don’t want to be doing in the first place. So don’t disappoint me. What’s the difference between love, romance and sex?”
Dax choked on the wine he’d just swallowed and spent his time recovering. “Give a guy a warning before you lay that kind of question on him.”
“Warning. Question imminent. Warning. Question imminent,” she intoned in such a perfect robot voice, he sputtered over a second sip, laughing this time.
For an uptight matchmaker, she had an offbeat sense of humor. He liked it. More than he should. It was starting to affect his focus and the more Elise charmed him, the less he remembered why it was important to punish her for Leo’s defection.
“Let’s see,” he said brusquely. “Fiction, Sade and yes, please.”
“Excuse me?”
“The answer to your question. Love equals fiction, Sade is romantic music and critical to set the mood, and I would assume ‘yes, please’ is self-explanatory in relation to sex.”
“That’s not precisely what I was looking for.”
“Then tell me what you would say. So I have an example to go by.”
“You never give up, do you?”
“Took you long enough to figure that out. So?” he prompted with raised eyebrows.
She sighed. “They’re intertwined so closely you can’t remove one without destroying the value of the other two.”
“That’s a loaded statement. Tell me more before I proceed to tear it apart.” He propped his chin on his hand and ignored the halibut a waiter placed in front of him, which he scarcely recalled ordering.
Her lips mushed together in apparent indecision. Or frustration. Hard to tell with her.
“You can have sex without being in love or putting on romantic music. But it’s so much better with both. Without love and romance, sex is meaningless and empty.”
As she warmed to the topic, her expression softened and that, plus the provocative subject matter, plus the warm breeze playing with her hair, plus...whatever it was about her that drew him all swirled together and spread like a sip of very old, very rare cognac in his chest. “Go on.”
“On the flip side, you can certainly make a romantic gesture toward someone you’re in love with and not end up in bed. But the fact that you’ve been intimate magnifies it. Makes it more romantic. See what I mean?”
