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She kept up a steady conversation about the house as he drove to Bella’s Italian Grille. The animation in her voice made it abundantly clear she enjoyed her job and added strength to his wavering doubt over her guilt.
He reached ahead to grab the door to the restaurant, then nearly bumped into her when she halted only two steps inside. Soft violin music and the gentle glow of a pair of tall, tapered candles on each table created a romantic atmosphere that brought him up just as short. What the hell?
“This is your idea of casual?”
Did he detect suspicion mixed with the dismay in her voice? He hadn’t intended this to look like a seduction and grimaced as he cast a swift glance at the other diners. “Evidently, I don’t get out enough. They must’ve remodeled since the last time I was here. We’re dressed fine, but we can go somewhere else if you’d prefer?”
Her gaze met his as if gauging his sincerity, and he didn’t look away even when the young, dark-haired hostess arrived behind her. “Table for two?”
Gina swung around. “Yes, please, as long as there’s not a long wait.”
“Only a couple minutes.”
“Then definitely, yes, please.” A sheepish grin curved her lips as she looked back over her shoulder at Dean. “It smells too good in here to go anywhere else.”
“You won’t be disappointed. The food is amazing.”
A few minutes later, they draped their jackets on the back of their chairs and settled across from each other at a small table tucked somewhat out of the way. The seclusion added to the intimacy, and he had a hard time concentrating on the menu with the candlelight playing across her face. Luckily, the entrées remained mostly the same, so he was able to take advantage of her downcast gaze while he admired her beauty.
Long lashes were lowered over her unusual eyes. The freckles he’d noticed the other day had him wondering if he’d find more in other places on her body. His gaze dropped, and with her menu resting mostly on the table, he could see a few faint speckles above the neckline of her sweater. How much lower did they extend?
The question ignited a slow burn in his veins. Yeah, no need to look at the menu. He knew exactly what he wanted, in more ways than one.
Their server arrived, a young, dark-haired man named Angelo who flirted with Gina as she placed her order of parmesan shrimp baked with ziti pasta. Hardly able to blame the guy, Dean quelled a spurt of jealousy and voiced his own choice of lasagna primavera with grilled chicken. He approved the wine the man suggested, and then it was just the two of them again.
When those flame-lit, violet eyes met his, his heart thumped in his chest. She leaned forward a bit to prop her chin on the palm of her hand and smiled. The effect was positively lethal. His blood pumped faster. He was a drowning man, and he didn’t even want a life jacket.
“So, what is it you’d like to know about Jackson that you don’t already know?”
After a split second of surprise, his stomach dropped and his libido sat back in disappointment. He unfolded his napkin across his thigh while considering how to respond.
“Oh, come on,” she challenged. “You don’t expect me to believe this dinner is just about you being nice, do you?”
It was a combination of him wanting to be nice while doing what was best for his company. But her the-best-defense-is-a-good-offense approach had caught him off guard. Smart girl. Then again, since she’d opened the subject, he might as well see what she had to say.
He relaxed back in his chair. “Now who’s accusing who?”
She sat up straight and lowered her hand just as Antonio arrived to pour their wine. She waited until Dean approved the selection and the waiter had gone before picking up where they’d left off. “I notice you didn’t deny ulterior motives.”
As he sipped his wine, her gaze held his in the candlelight and he felt the weight of the moment. She’d already guessed his motives, so being truthful with her—to a point—shouldn’t jeopardize anything. It might even invite her to do the same.
“There’s a lot at stake. Not just for me, but my employees as well.”
Her delicate brows drew together, concern evident in her expression. “Is your company in trouble?”
Dean reached to set his glass down. Then he adjusted his silverware on the table. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms over each other on the table. “They’re all personal where Jackson is concerned. But sure, why not?”
“How could you have stayed with him for two years?”
Emotion flashed in her expression. Embarrassment? Chagrin? She covered by reaching for her own drink. After what he’d call a fortifying gulp, she set the glass down and used her thumb and forefinger to spin it back and forth on the linen tablecloth.
“I will admit, I’ve asked myself that exact question more than once after I broke up with him. I did figure it out, but before I tell you all my secrets, I’ve got a question for you.”
Happy to hear she’d been the one to end the relationship, Dean didn’t even hesitate. “Shoot.”
“How long were the two of you in business together?”
