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Skye looked away, pretty sure she heard him say, ‘I thought so,’ as he made his way up the staircase to the second floor.
By the time Benoit was dressed he told himself he was back in command of his libido. She’d clearly had no idea what that look had done to him and he wished he didn’t. Because it was interfering with the now fully formed plan in his mind. The one that said Skye Soames was the answer to his problems. And the reason that she was perfect was not just because she desperately needed the map that he was convinced his great-aunt had hidden away, but also because nice girls like Skye Soames didn’t go for bad boys like him. In fact, he fully expected her to find his proposal so outrageous it would cut that attraction dead. Which was good, because he had absolutely no intention of messing up the only decent solution he’d found to this entire situation with something as fleeting as sexual desire.
Feeling a familiar sense of complete self-belief in his plan and its success, he snagged a bottle of wine before heading out into the garden where Skye had laid the table and placed the steaks.
She had waited for him but when he took a seat she barely met his eye.
‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ he asked.
‘I don’t think—’
‘Not that I want to pressure you into drinking, but it’s a light wine and you can stop at one glass. You’d be drinking with food so...’
‘The effects won’t be as potent as the whisky?’
‘Pretty much, oui.’ He smiled, hoping to put her at ease, and to completely ignore the passing comment he’d made on his return from the shower earlier, even though the words still burned his tongue. ‘This looks delicious, thank you.’
After he took his first bite she seemed to gingerly approach the steak and spear the smallest piece with her fork. She stared at it a long time before putting it in her mouth.
‘Is something wrong?’ he asked. She shook her head, slowly chewing and eventually swallowing.
‘No, it’s just... I...haven’t eaten meat in five years.’
Benoit nearly spat out his wine. ‘What? You’re vegetarian?’ he demanded.
‘It’s not that shocking.’
‘I’m not shocked by the vegetarianism, but that you’d suddenly decide to eat steak!’
‘Well, it’s not me that’s the vegetarian. Summer became vegetarian five years ago and Mum’s been vegan for years, so it just seemed easier if we all did.’
‘Skye, there are plenty of vegetables in the fridge!’
‘I know. But you missed out on your steak last night. You said so... And, given how much trouble I’ve been...the Jeep, the bike... I can’t even imagine how much I owe you,’ she said, still not meeting his eye.
‘You don’t owe me anything,’ he said sincerely, not once having given thought to charging her for the damage. Instead, he was searching Skye’s face for traces of the determined, no-nonsense woman who’d trekked through the jungle covered in scratches and bites. He rubbed his forehead, appalled that she had just broken her principles to appease him.
‘Please, Skye, don’t eat any more of it,’ he said, the small bite he’d already managed sitting heavy in his gut.
She looked up then, gold flecks flickering in her brown eyes. ‘Actually,’ she whispered as if confiding a secret, ‘I really like it.’ And she took another mouthful of succulent meat. And another. And another.
She groaned in appreciation and Benoit fisted his cutlery in his hands, trying to shake off the realisation that this woman had spent years denying herself pleasure when he never refused it.
‘I’m sorry. I genuinely support vegetarianism. I wholeheartedly believe that it’s both better for our digestion as well as the environment,’ she explained, eyeing up another forkful.
‘These were sustainably sourced, I assure you.’
‘Thank you. I appreciate it, I really do. But every once in a while...it makes you appreciate and value the meat you do have.’
‘Will you regret it tomorrow?’ Benoit asked, genuinely curious. Rather than fobbing him off with an answer she seemed to give the matter some thought. She looked into the distance over his shoulder, squinting a little as if working through possible consequences. Once again, he was struggling to fathom how she had put her own wants—something as simple as the occasional piece of meat—aside for her sisters. As a man who had luxuriated in giving into his every selfish want in the last two years it was a strange notion.
‘No. I don’t think so. It doesn’t mean that I’ll call my sisters and tell...’ She trailed off, clearly remembering that she couldn’t just pick up the phone and call them. ‘But I knew what I was doing when I chose the steaks for dinner,’ she pressed on.
‘So the vegetarianism was...?’
‘My mum,’ she supplied. Benoit couldn’t be sure but there was something in her eyes...as if she both wanted and didn’t want to carry on the conversation. ‘Mum’s lifestyle is...alternative. It’s a wonder we all survived childhood.’
Benoit was thinking that it probably had more to do with Skye than a wonder.
