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“It smells good.”
“The stock was excellent – you had a heap in the freezer. I hope you don’t mind that I used some.”
“Of course not.”
He was impossible to read.
She hadn’t expected him to come into the kitchen and talk with her that afternoon. She hadn’t expected to share so much of her history with him, nor to learn what she had about him. She hadn’t intended to ask him to join her for dinner and she definitely hadn’t anticipated his agreement!
Yet here they were, about to sit down opposite one another and eat a dish she’d cooked while thinking of him non-stop. Her pulse was going haywire.
“Risotto was a staple in our share house,” she said, hoping conversation might help her feel a little more relaxed. “It’s cheap, and I could play with a heap of different flavours.”
“What was your favourite?”
“This,” she gestured to the dish. “Though I did make a raspberry and white chocolate one for a friend’s birthday. She has celiac disease so needed something gluten free and we couldn’t afford almond meal,” she said with a nostalgic laugh.
“Sounds interesting.”
“It was really good, I have to say.”
She lifted the bowls, carrying them to the table, wishing she could hide the slight tremble in her hands.
He’d poured two glasses of buttery yellow white wine and as she approached the table, he held a chair out for her. Her heart thumped.
This wasn’t a date. It was the farthest thing from it. He was just being polite.
She placed the bowls down then moved into her chair, sitting down as he pushed it towards the table. She was sure it was unintentional, but his fingers brushed her shoulders and she startled, the touch simmering her as though he’d flicked her with a live voltage of electricity.
“Did you buy the tanker?”
His eyes crinkled when he was amused, but his lips didn’t budge. Getting this man to smile was no mean feat.
“I’m about thirty pages into a seventy-page acquisition contract.”
“Want me to take a look?”
He frowned for a second, and she wondered if he’d forgotten her law degree.
“Contracts were my speciality. If I’d practiced law, it would have been commercial, possibly commercial litigation. I love it.”
“Why?”
The question made her smile. “Because it’s so precise, and yet the nuance of language allows for endless debate, unless a contract is drafted absolutely perfectly. I loved trying to find a loophole or weakness.”
“Sounds fun.”
She laughed at his sarcastic rejoinder.
But a moment later, he was smiling too, a proper smile that made her stomach roll like she was cresting over a hill at speed. His smiles were rare but they were stunning – world shifting. “Actually, I mean that seriously,” he amended. “I like the precision of contracts too. I’m sure it’s why the others get me to check all the documentation before we sign.”
“So that’s your role?”
He shook his head, and the smile dropped. “We all do various things.”
“Is it what you wanted to do when you were a child?”
He frowned, reaching for his fork. She caught her breath as he held it over the rice.
