One that had once been a favourite.
‘Do they do a mushroom sauce?’
Tilly had a short, rapid conversation with the waiter. ‘Yes,’ she told Angus. ‘They do a very good sauce with champignons de Paris, the ordinary mushrooms, but also with cremini, the brown ones, and some forest varieties too.’
They chose different sauces. He ordered the mushroom and Tilly the bordelaise.
‘You’ll have to taste mine,’ Tilly said, with a smile.
Oh, Lord… why did that sound so suggestive?
Because, on some level, he wanted it to?
There was more to Tilly than being an attractive woman with a very feminine passion for romance. It seemed that she was a kind and caring person. She hadn’t made him feel at all ignorant about the gaps in his knowledge of wine and French appellation rules. Given his little tirade that had revealed his aversion to all things romantic, she probably realised he had no interest in something as fizzy and iconic as champagne or its close relatives. She had also remembered his tongue-in-cheekreference to a Scottish heritage and prudence when it came to spending money.
Tongue in cheek.
Angus took a sip of his excellent Merlot. He was pretending to admire the unusual fountain covered with some kind of growth but he was actually remembering the way Tilly had literally put her tongue in her cheek when she was trying not to offend him by saying she didn’t want to drink red wine. And that face she’d made – like a child who’d been caught in the pantry stealing a Jammie Dodger. Maybe that was what he sensed about this woman. Not vulnerability but innocence. Optimism. A determination to see only the best in everything and everyone.
Her dress seemed to confirm the new layer of his impression of Tilly. She’d chosen to wear the colour of sunshine and it suited her perfectly. She’d unravelled her hair from that braid as well and he’d seen it move like a dark waterfall that reached her waist when she’d first taken her seat at their table.
She was, he realised, more than simply attractive. She was stunning.
Not that Angus had any intention of hitting on her. Good God, no! That would be totally inappropriate and he wasn’t remotely interested.
Okay, that wasn’t true. What man in his right mindwouldn’tbe interested in this gorgeous woman? But he didn’t do casual sex. The inherent risks, like getting someone pregnant, catching an unpleasant disease or giving them the idea that he was opening a door to a significant relationship, had always overruled any flash of lust.
Why was he even thinking about it? Angus abandoned his perusal of the fountain and turned back as a waiter approached the table with their food.
Tilly’s innocent, childlike ability to be optimistic and find joy in even the smallest things might be exactly what Angus neededin a companion at the moment. Someone who had a completely different outlook on life.
Perhaps people were attracted to their opposites because it offered the potential of balance in life.
Angus could believe that. His work was all about balance. The ends of the scale with risk on one side and consequence on the other. It was his job to analyse the weight of each side and adjust the balance. To do his best to reduce any negative consequences.
Sometimes a small riskcouldbe tolerated but only if the odds were weighted towards what could be gained.
Like eating sauce, even though he was wearing a white shirt.
The simple meal was surprisingly delicious. The steak, served on a rustic wooden board, with a side salad, was mouth-wateringly tender – the char on the outside a caramelised crust but the inside the blushing pink of a perfect medium-rare. The hand-cut chips, served in a metal basket to share, stayed crisp and hot on the table between them.
They ate in a companionable silence for some time.
‘You must try this.’ Tilly finally held up a small bowl of the sauce she had ordered. ‘It’ssogood.’
Angus contemplated using a chip but then tore a piece off one of the slices of baguette on his board. He reached out and dipped the bread and, as he did so, his hand brushed Tilly’s fingers and he almost dropped the bread into the sauce.
What the hellwasthat?
It had felt like some kind of static electricity. Angus could feel goosebumps forming on his skin but there was no reason for it to have built up enough to discharge – no significant movement, no synthetic materials that he could see. And it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. Not at all.
It was just… different. Something he’d never felt before. Tilly didn’t seem to have noticed because Angus was watching her as he put the piece of bread into his mouth.
And she was watching him. She licked her lips as she saw him tasting what she knew was delicious, and the sight of the tip of her tongue did something very peculiar to a part of Angus’s body that he hadn’t known existed. Something deep that had been well hidden until now. Something potentially dangerous? The stirring of something best left undisturbed?
He swallowed his mouthful, nodding slowly, to let her know that he had enjoyed it. Then he picked up his serviette and wiped his lips, in case some sauce had escaped.
‘So…’ He was holding Tilly’s gaze. Or perhaps she was holding his? ‘Is this when I can ask you to come with me again?’
