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“No, not since I saw Babe.”
“Piglets are awfully cute, I’ll agree, and apparently quite intelligent. I know better than to ask about veal, but you’re fine with fish and fowl?”
“Yes, and I love snails, lobster, and crab.”
Griffin took a sip of his Burgundy. “But you don’t care what I eat?”
“No, not at all. That’s your business. You’ve not made fun of me.”
“And you appreciate that?”
Darcy gestured with her fork, then caught herself, and laid it along the edge of her plate. “Yes, I’m very grateful. Now what is it you’re really after here?”
“Just a kind word is all. I’d hoped that you’d stumble across something you liked about me.”
She rolled her eyes. “When other women spew a fountain of compliments, I think you’d be glad I give your ears a rest.”
“You’re right, of course. Just as my mother warned, I’ve been spoiled by cascades of lavish praise, while you stubbornly refuse to accept compliments graciously.” He butted his fists together. “I’d say we pull each other toward the center. Such perfect balance is difficult to find.”
Darcy paused to take another bite of chicken. “Maybe we could borrow the chalkboard they use to list their daily specials and chart all our differences over dessert.”
“Sure. That sounds exciting.”
“You excite too easily.”
“Perhaps that’s what you like best about me.”
Darcy was about to respond with a suitably sarcastic reply when a car backfired out in the street. Her knife slipped from her grasp, clattered against her plate and brought disapproving glances from several of the café’s patrons.
She wiped her hands on her napkin. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so jumpy.”
“Of course you should. We can’t pretend nothing happened last night.”
She drew a deep breath, but it didn’t ease her mind. He had lain in wait for a man rather than allow them to be stabbed in their sleep. They would have killed a second man if he hadn’t committed suicide right in front of them. Then dear little Astrid had died. It was all more than she’d been prepared to face.
“I thought pretense was our only option,” she responded wistfully.
“I’ll show you another when we get back to the hotel.”
Darcy shook her head. “It’s a good thing you’re the one with the dick, because I sure couldn’t get it up tonight.”
“Darcy!” Griffin fought to contain his laughter to a deep chuckle, then had to use his napkin to muffle the sound. “That’s another thing I love about you. No one talks to me the way you do, and I’m so sick of fawning women.”
“Well, no one’s ever mistaken me for Bambi. But just for the sake of argument, what if I were to fall madly in love with you and pay you effusive compliments all day long?”
When she quickly focused on her plate rather than wait for his reply, Griffin was hit with a blinding glimpse of the obvious. “Oh, Darcy, how can you believe that I’d ever tire o
f you?”
She shrugged. “It could happen.”
“Yeah, and a piano could fall out of the sky and crush us both while we’re out sightseeing tomorrow, but it’s highly unlikely.”
Darcy hadn’t meant to reveal so much and, badly embarrassed, she toyed with her food rather than argue. Up until now, she’d met a lot of boys masquerading as men, but here was Griffin, the genuine article, and she was terrified she wasn’t nearly woman enough for him.
She looked as though she were about to dive under the table to avoid him, and Griffin couldn’t bear to watch her squirm. “Would you like to call Christy Joy when we get back to the hotel and see how things are going at home? Or maybe you’d like to call your parents.”
Relieved he’d changed the subject, Darcy nodded. “Thanks. Maybe I will, but you better tell me what to say so I won’t get us both into trouble again.”
