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No, Marla needed to keep her clothes on and to stay at the end of a long boardroom table and Sybella could never know the truth of just what his plans were for this small business venture. To use it and close it.
Because she was looking at him with those clear, frank green-brown eyes, and he knew she wouldn’t understand.
He touched his hands to hers.
‘What are you thinking, moya krasvitsa zhenschina?’
‘I imagine being your girlfriend would involve more of this kind of thing, with other contenders for the title.’
Nik stroked the length of her thumb with his. She dropped her gaze to their joined hands.
‘There are no other contenders.’ He spoke softly, his voice roughened by the crackle of sexual tension in the air.
Meaning she was the one? Sybella guessed she had just declared something when she kissed him in front of, not only Marla Mendez, but the rest of The Folly Inn.
‘But I told you once before, I can be an eminently shallow man.’ He had lowered his voice. ‘Because you do know I’m thinking about that roller-coaster ride from your delicate throat down to your slender ankles, and the place that probably thrills me most is when it reaches the lush promise of your lovely, voluptuous bottom.’
Sybella expelled a hot little breath and wondered if that coat closet idea was completely bonkers.
He put his hand under her chin and lifted it so she had to look at him.
‘I flew back from Montenegro to take you to lunch because try as I might I couldn’t keep away.’
That awful week of not knowing was suddenly at the forefront of her mind. ‘But why did you try?’
They both heard Fleur’s voice on the perimeter of their table and Nik raised a brow to signify the reason.
Fleur?
Sybella was suddenly a little confused. He’d kept away because she had responsibilities? Because she had a child?
She tried to pull herself together and look cheerful and composed for her daughter, but her head was pounding with the idea Nik found Fleur a stumbling block to their relationship.
Not that it even was a relationship. At the moment it was all very up in the air.
She tried to focus on what her daughter was saying.
‘Mummy, Grandma says after tomorrow the ice rink will be closed. You promised and we never got to go!’
Ice rink? Sybella gave an internal groan. She had promised. She was the world’s worst mother. ‘We’ll go next year, poppet.’
Fleur’s lower lip trembled.
‘Where is this ice rink?’ Nik’s deep voice had both Parminter girls turning their heads to look at him in surprise.
‘Belfort Castle opens a rink every year from November through January,’ Sybella explained. ‘We missed it last year too.’ She turned back to her unhappy daughter. ‘Mummy is so sorry, darling.’
‘Where is this castle?’
Sybella blinked. ‘Half an hour west.’
Why was Nik asking all these questions? Couldn’t he see it only gave Fleur more of a platform to agonise over it? But then, he knew nothing about children. He clearly didn’t want to know anything about her daughter.
‘We can do this now,’ he said.
Fleur’s quivering lip disappeared under her gapped front teeth. She gave a tremulous little squeal. ‘Mummy, Mummy, please. Pleeeease.’
‘If your mother’s agreeable,’ he added, and suddenly Sybella’s own platform for agonising collapsed.
He was making an effort. For her daughter.
‘I think that would be lovely.’ She gazed at him, feeling a lot of stuff that she’d have to shelve for the moment.
‘What would be lovely?’ asked Catherine as she reached the table.
‘Ice-skating, Grandma!’ Fleur was looking up at Nik as if he might pull a rabbit out of a hat for her. Sybella was aware she was doing much the same.
‘Wonderful.’ Catherine sat down, drawing Fleur up onto her knee. ‘Will any of this involve Fleur spending some time with Marcus and me tonight while you take Sybella to dinner?’
‘Catherine—’
‘Da, if you would,’ Nik interrupted her smoothly. ‘I’m taking Sybella to a party.’
