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She was striding out, unhampered by any tight sexy skirt or high heels. Her long legs were clad in blue denim and the flat sandals on her feet signalled casual comfort had priority over any female urge to excite desire in him. Clearly she didn’t care what he thought or felt. It was unimportant to her. Her head was bent in private thought, a look of determined purpose on her face. She wasn’t looking for him. She was simply making her way to the meeting place.
He noted the overnight bag she was carrying—only big enough to hold a few essentials—definitely no frills on Nicole’s agenda tonight. Her long curly hair was loose, no tantalising pins to remove. The top she wore was more feminine than the unisex jeans, but not a look at me garment. Quin smiled to himself. If she thought her presentation would put him off the merchandise, she could think again.
As though she suddenly sensed his scrutiny, her head lifted, gaze swinging sharply towards where he sat, connecting with his, flashing a wry acknowledgment of game on. Her feet halted as she watched him rise from the table, ready to greet her. Quin felt his body zinging with anticipation. A strong blast of intuition told him she was eyeing the enemy before engaging with him. Retreat was not in the air. Let the battle begin, Quin thought, holding out an open hand to draw her in.
Nicole ignored the accelerated pounding of her heart and put on a determinedly cheerful face as she walked forward to greet the man who’d paid the price she’d put on herself. Since he would now expect value for it, an initial smile seemed the best way to get proceedings onto reasonably pleasant terms.
“Quin…” She took his hand, giving it a light squeeze. “Thank you for making the money available so quickly. It made today much less difficult than it could have been.”
Just as well she had prepared that little speech because Quin’s strong magnetism was zapping all the sensible thoughts out of her mind. The mere touch of his hand was shooting electric tingles up her arm. She’d put half a world between them to get away from the sexual hold he’d once had on her. Distance had not diminished the power of his attraction but she simply couldn’t afford to fall victim to it this time. Somehow she had to keep whatever happened between them contained.
“I’ve built my business on being efficient and effective,” he replied.
“Not to mention ruthless,” she slung at him, the words tripping off her tongue, regardless of her earlier resolve not to revive old emotional wounds. Even worse, she withdrew her hand so quickly, her fingernails scraped along his.
His grey eyes glittered with sardonic amusement. “I wondered how long it would take for the claws to come out.”
“Sorry. I probably need a manicure.”
“I was referring to your description of me.”
Ruthless?
“Oh, come now,” she chided. “You can’t deny one of your greatest attributes—setting a goal and going after it with single-minded dedication.”
“I’ll concede that attitude has served me well, for the most part.”
“Got the results you wanted,” she pushed derisively.
“More often than not. I’ve even got you, Nicole. Which just goes to prove that a huge loss can be recovered—” he grinned provocatively as he added “—if one is ruthless enough.”
She raised a mocking eyebrow. “Or prepared to sacrifice a great deal of money.”
“But it’s not a sacrifice. It’s an investment in the future.”
“A very short-term future.”
“We’ll see.” He gestured to the chair opposite his at the table. “Please join me. I’ve ordered champagne to celebrate the beginning of a new chapter in our lives.”
Not so new, she thought caustically, curbing her tongue as she settled on the chair. The adrenaline rush of crossing swords with Quin needed to be curbed, as well. It drew her into revealing how much he could still get under her skin and she didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.
He signalled to a waiter to open the bottle of champagne which was sitting in an ice-bucket, conveniently placed on a portable stand beside their table. The waiter handed them menus and reeled off a list of chef’s specials as he uncorked the bottle and filled their glasses.
“We’ll both have a dozen oysters followed by the lobster in butter sauce with a side salad,” Quin said, abrogating any choice Nicole might have made.
She didn’t bother protesting, though once the waiter had left she dryly commented, “I might have wanted something else.”
“You’ve got what you wanted, Nicole.” He lifted his glass in a toast. “Here’s to what I want.”
She fiddled with her glass, watching him sip the champagne, his eyes challenging her to make some issue on how he was handling the situation. He knew she loved seafood and had invariably ordered it whenever they had dined out in the past. Lobster was terribly expensive, so in fact he was giving her treat. And knew it. But he was also claiming absolute dominance during her time with him.
“If you want your pound of flesh, Quin, why have me meet you in such a public place?” She gestured to the milling crowd of passers-by.
“They say the flesh is sweeter closer to the bone. I don’t mind taking my time working down to it.”
Peeling off layer and layer of protective skin, Nicole thought, a convulsive little shiver running down her spine. She couldn’t let Quin get too close to her. He might tear her apart if she didn’t remain on guard.
“Why not relax?” he invited with a teasing smile. “Obviously you are completely safe here amongst so many people. The night is young and I’m perfectly happy to revel in the exquisite pleasure of anticipation.”
