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He raised an eyebrow. ‘I’ve never been called a pushover before.’
‘You don’t count.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘This conversation is doing wonders for my ego.’
Bursting out laughing, she pushed his arm lightly, her heart beating wildly as his mouth curved up into one of those rare, irresistible smiles.
‘I mean, I didn’t pick you. We didn’t pick each other. Archie did.’
‘Yes, I suppose that’s true.’
Something stirred beneath the surface of his face and he started to speak again, then stopped.
In the silence that followed he stared past her, his gaze following a pair of gulls as they swooped low over the water and then up towards the sun. She watched him swallow, watched a muscle tighten in his jaw.
It was as if her pulse was suddenly marking time. There was no reason why she should be holding her breath, no explanation for why every nerve in her body seemed to be drawn tight, but all at once nothing seemed as important as what he was going to say next.
‘What we spoke about last night—did you mean it? About helping with the entertainment side of the casino?’
She stared at him in confusion.
Was that it?
The change of subject away from the personal to the professional was entirely unexpected and, thrown off balance, she shook her head, then nodded. ‘Yes, I meant it.’
Her stomach clenched. Suddenly it was what she wanted more than anything. One day she might find her voice again, but this was something she could do—something she would enjoy doing.
‘Have you changed your mind?’ she asked.
He shook his head, his eyes resting on hers. ‘I need someone who understands that area of the business...someone I can trust.’ The tension in his jaw had eased, softening his voice. ‘And I’d like that someone to be you.’
A rush of warmth lifted her slightly off her feet. It was something she hadn’t felt in a long time, and then only infrequently. It was a feeling of mattering, of having something to say that made a difference to people, and it had only happened when she was on stage.
Not even Della had made her feel this way.
Her sister had been so much older, so composed. It had always been hard to feel like her equal. And yet, despite the glaring discrepancy between their wealth, for some reason—probably the fact that they were co-parenting Archie—she did feel like Charlie’s equal.
‘I’d like that too.’
‘My beautiful, talented wife,’ he said softly. He was staring at her steadily. ‘Everyone is going to go crazy for you at the engagement party.’
Engagement party. What engagement party?
Catching sight of her expression, he made a face. ‘Sorry, I meant to tell you last night, but it slipped my mind.’
She felt her cheeks grow hot and the skin tighten over her bones, remembering how he had turned her around, the weight and the firmness of his body against hers and the smooth, hard tension of his skin.
There had been no conscious thought in that cabin. Or boundaries. Their hunge
r for one another had blotted out reason and self-control.
‘I’m not surprised,’ she said softly.
His eyes gleamed and, catching her chin, he tilted her face up to his. ‘I hope you don’t mind. My sisters are planning it. It’s kind of their thing.’
Her throat felt too tight to speak. They had told his family, and last night at the casino she had been by his side as his fiancée. But an engagement party made everything official, public, high-profile. The Lao family was big news in the Eastern hemisphere—the engagement of Lao Dan’s eldest son would not go unnoticed by the media.
Or by his mother, she thought, her heart lurching drunkenly against her ribs.
