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‘Ah, but she doesn’t know that. Your eagerness to share a room with me didn’t help either. In her eyes we’re definitely an item,’ he said with an air of satisfaction.
Rachel had made the mistake of taking a sip of wine. Now she spluttered and choked a little before banging the glass down on the table. ‘I most definitely was not eager to share a room with you. It just so happens that it’s the only room left in the place and I was tired and cold and hungry.’
‘I know that.’ His tone was soothing, exaggeratedly so. ‘But the landlady doesn’t. She said—’
‘I really don’t care what the landlady was supposed to have said, and I don’t believe she said anything anyway.’
He smiled, a genuine smile, one that crinkled his eyes and accelerated Rachel’s breathing. ‘“Oh, ye of little faith…”’
Trying to maintain a glare, she took another sip of wine. She needed the boost to her system. ‘I’ll sleep in a chair down here tonight,’ she said waspishly. ‘That’ll settle things.’
‘No can do. Fire and safety regulations.’
‘You’re making that up,’ she accused, not fooled by his innocent expression. ‘Like the rest of this silly conversation.’
‘Would I?’ he drawled lazily, not in the least put out.
Impossible man. Impossible situation. ‘Absolutely.’
One of the walkers, a healthy, tanned, attractive blonde girl in tight jeans and an even tighter T-shirt, sashayed slowly past their table, staring at Zac with what Rachel considered brazen interest. Suddenly she felt as deflated as a pricked balloon. The girl was brimming over with eager exuberance and self-confidence, and she was lovely. She wouldn’t have any hang-ups about sleeping with a handsome single man; in fact, she’d probably make the first move in the bed department.
Rachel watched the high ponytail of sleek curls bob as the girl passed, her perfect little derrière displayed to maximum advantage in the snug denim. She didn’t look a day over eighteen and she oozed life and vivacity, a boldness and assurance about her that suggested she was happily comfortable inside her skin. That was the kind of woman Zac should be with.
‘What are you thinking?’
‘What?’ Startled, her eyes snapped to his.
‘The look on your face…’ His voice hesitated and stopped. His golden eyes held hers. After what seemed an age, he said softly, ‘You’re an enigma, do you know that? I find myself feeling like a schoolboy when I’m with you, wanting to do something outrageous to impress you.’
She stared at him, too taken aback to hide it.
‘And I don’t know why,’ he continued, still in the same quiet tone. ‘You’re beautiful, but I’ve known many beautiful women in my time and none of them have affected me the way you do. I want to know everything you think and feel, what makes you happy and what makes you sad, what you like and don’t like, what’s made you into the woman you are.’
Mesmerised, she murmured, ‘I’m not beautiful.’
‘Oh, but you are, in a gentle, soft and very dangerous way. A way that makes a man forget who he is and what he wants out of life,’ he added wryly, a self-derisive quirk to his lips.
He couldn’t be talking about her. Rachel’s eyes fell to her hands. Siren material she definitely was not.
‘So, you see, I need to understand you but every time I think I’ve found out one facet it changes, like the clouds on a windy day. Which is…unsettling.’ He gave a growl of a laugh. ‘Very unsettling.’
Unthinkingly, Rachel finished her glass of wine and watched his strong, capable fingers as he poured her another. ‘You’re making me out to be someone I’m not,’ she whispered when he settled back in his chair, his face broodingly intent on hers. ‘I’m very ordinary, as it happens.’
Again the growl of a laugh rumbled. ‘Rachel, you’re many things, and a whole host of them damn exasperating, but ordinary you are most definitely not.’
Her chin rose. ‘If I’m such a trial, why have you persisted in asking me out? Wouldn’t it have been easier to walk away?’
‘I told you, I need to suss you out if I’m going to have any peace of mind when I go back home.’ His voice had lost all amusement. ‘And you know I will go back, don’t you?’ He leaned forward. ‘I have to. My work, family, friends—my life’s in Canada.’
They stared at each other wordlessly, the silence stretching until Rachel was ready to scream. From somewhere she found the strength to speak at last. ‘I haven’t asked you to stay, Zac.’
His mouth tightened for a moment, then relaxed. ‘True.’
Self-preservation urged her on. ‘Nor would I,’ she added, sounding brutal even to her own ears. ‘The last thing I want is—’
‘Me?’ he cut in drily.
‘A relationship. With anyone,’ she emphasised softly. ‘The thing with Giles…’ She paused for a moment. ‘Well, it made me realise I don’t want to put myself in the same position again. Not for a long, long time anyway.’
