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CHAPTER TWELVE
‘I THOUGHT the plan was for you to look over my proposal.’
Leo looked across at the frosty woman holding onto the railing on the pool deck as if it were the only thing keeping her alive.
‘And we will. But first there is a magnificent sunset to enjoy and an even better dinner to eat.’
‘I’m not very hungry.’
‘You didn’t eat lunch.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘My chef makes it his mission to inspect each plate that is returned. He pays particular attention to the full ones.’
‘I wasn’t hungry then either.’
‘And the sunset?’ ‘What about it?’
‘You haven’t disparaged the sunset yet.’
Her lips twitched at his attempt at humour. ‘I’m working up to it.’
Leo smiled. After their tense meeting in his office earlier he’d decided there was no way she would be sleeping alone while she was on his yacht but that perhaps he needed to make up for his earlier behaviour and woo her a little. Not that she was making it easy in a fitted blouse and short summer skirt that drew his eyes to her shapely legs and made him want to lay her across the elegantly set table beside the pool and have his wicked way with her. Frankly, polite conversation was the last thing he felt like right now!
‘Work up to it while we eat,’ he suggested, gesturing for her to take a seat at the table. She eyed it as if it were a guillotine and he hid a smile. She was a definite challenge and one he was surprised to find he didn’t mind rising to.
‘I think someone must have misinterpreted your intentions when they set this table,’ she murmured almost to herself.
Leo glanced at the gleaming silverware, crystal glasses and a centre candle waiting to be lit. It was a romantic setting and just as he’d ordered.
‘It’s not to your liking?’ he asked as he held out her chair.
She sat, but was careful not to brush up against him. ‘It’s a touch intimate.’
‘Not for what I have in mind.’
She met his eyes sharply as he sat down opposite her. ‘Which is?’
‘Let’s eat first. I always find I argue better on a full stomach.’
Lexi laughed despite herself and told her heart to stop its unruly fluttering.
‘Would you care for wine tonight?’
She needed something to ward off the charming man opposite her and nodded up at the waiter holding two bottles in his hand.
‘Red or white, ma’am?’
‘White. Thank you.’ She watched as her glass was filled with sparkling wine and realised she was finding excuses not to look at Leo lest he see how affected she was by the sight of him, the golden rays of the dying sun turning him into a bronzed god. His blue eyes were brilliant in his tanned face, his muscular legs accentuated by the low-riding denim jeans, the sexy casual top … Jeans? Since when did he wear jeans? And why, oh, why, did he have to look so good in them?
‘You’re wearing jeans!’ She knew she sounded accusing and took a fortifying gulp of wine to hide the gauche comment.
He looked down at himself. ‘You don’t like them?’
No, she didn’t like them—she loved them.
‘You don’t normally wear them to a business meeting.’
