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‘I didn’t mean to pry,’ she said with a little pout. ‘I just thought you might like to talk about it … you know, to help you get over it.’
He put the menu to one side and, leaning his forearms on the table, pinned her gaze with his. ‘I am over it, Dr Willoughby. Thank you for your concern but it is not needed or indeed welcome.’
She screwed up her mouth at him. ‘I thought we’d progressed past the formality of official titles or are you trying to intimidate me just because I hit on a raw nerve?’
‘I don’t have any raw nerves, and if I refer to you formally it’s only to remind you of our professional relationship in case you get any ideas of stepping over the boundaries.’
Her eyes widened in affront. ‘You think that I’m coming on to you?’
His brows hooked upwards wryly. ‘Aren’t you?’
‘Of course not!’ she said, hot colour staining her cheeks. ‘I wouldn’t dream of getting involved with someone like you.’
‘Too country for your tastes, Geor-gi-a-na?’ he asked with a curl of his lip.
She frowned heavily at his mocking pronunciation of her name. ‘That’s not what I meant at all.’
He picked up the wine list and turned slightly in his chair, which afforded her a view of his broad shoulder instead of his face. ‘I expect your father’s approval would have to be factored in when choosing a potential partner.’ He put the wine list down again and added, ‘It wouldn’t do to upset him in case he took it on himself to take back his Porsche or penthouse, not to mention the business-class, all-expenses-paid overseas holidays, now, would it?’
Georgie was almost speechless with anger. ‘Careful, Mr Blackwood, your country bumpkin complex is showing,’ she bit out through tight lips.
His dark eyes flared with anger at her jibe. ‘It’s true though, isn’t it? He would have a coronary if you got involved with someone like me.’
‘That’s not true,’ Georgie said, but without the strength of conviction necessary to convince him. She saw the scepticism in his expression but before she could say anything else Gina came over to take their orders.
‘Would you like some wine?’ Roberto came over to ask once his wife had left. ‘I have a cabernet shiraz that is eccellente.’
‘Just one glass for me,’ Georgie said with a smile.
‘And you, Dottore Blackwood?’ Roberto addressed Ben.
‘The same, thanks, Roberto,’ he answered, adding, once Roberto had joined his wife in the kitchen, ‘I had better keep a clear head in case I run into trouble on the road tomorrow.’
Georgie sent him a reproachful look. ‘Do you have to refer to that incident at every opportunity?’
‘I figure that since you’re now living in the same vicinity it wouldn’t hurt for me to be hyper-vigilant in future,’ he said breaking off a piece of garlic bread and popping it into his mouth.
She glared at him heatedly. ‘For your information I have a perfect driving record. I haven’t even got a parking ticket.’
‘None that you would have paid for yourself in any case,’ he said as he broke off another piece of bread.
Georgie flashed her eyes at him again. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’
He made her wait for his answer by taking his time chewing and swallowing. ‘You drive a top-model Porsc
he and you live in a penthouse. I know registrars earn a heck of a lot in overtime but not enough to fund the sort of lifestyle you’re living.’
‘You know nothing about my lifestyle,’ she shot back.
‘Did you pay for your car yourself?’
Georgie set her mouth. ‘It was a birthday present but that’s none of your—’
‘What about the apartment?’ he cut her off with a mocking tone. ‘Was that a birthday present, too?’
Georgie could feel her fingers on the stem of her glass tightening and lowering her voice so the Italian couple wouldn’t hear, ground out through clenched teeth, ‘You don’t know how close you are to wearing a full glass of red wine.’
His eyes clashed with hers, one edge of his mouth tilting in a you-wouldn’t-dare smile. ‘That’s hardly the sort of behaviour a professor’s daughter should display in public, now, is it?’
