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“Dinner?”
Her one-word question pulled him back from the brink.
“A meal usually taken in the evening. Sometimes people eat it together.”
“Uh-huh.” A frown wrinkled her nose. “Why are you asking me to dinner?”
“The party to announce the sale of Fox to Cabrera is just over a month away. You’re here to review marketing, branding, and possibly to become the new director of Fox. We have a lot to discuss.” He glanced down at his watch. “It’s four-thirty now. We’ll leave at seven.”
He turned and left before Everleigh could say another word. If she wanted a say, she’d show up. If she didn’t, then he would make the necessary decisions without her.
Either way, he was going to be taking a very cold shower tonight.
CHAPTER TEN
EVERLEIGHSTRUGGLEDTOcontain her awe as she took in the courtyard of the restaurant. Round tables were artfully scattered amongst the flowering almond trees, their tops dressed with flickering candles and small bouquets of red roses. Water fell from a three-tiered fountain in the middle of the square—a pleasant melody against the backdrop of sultry instrumental music and the hum of conversation.
She’d been frantically eyeing the dresses she’d stuffed in her suitcase when Isabella had arrived with two evening gowns. It had been disconcerting to realize the woman who had made her feel so at ease in the garden was Adrian’s mother.
“Fortunately, we are the same size,” Isabella had said as she’d blazed into the room with a bright smile and hung the dresses up, bowling over Everleigh’s discomfort with her cheery energy. “I thought you might want more variety to choose from.”
A tactful way of saying she’d guessed that Everleigh hadn’t brought anything formal enough for the restaurant Adrian was taking her to.
Gratitude had overridden her embarrassment, and the dress she’d settled on—a silvery gray with a silky halter top and a sparkling skirt that fell in soft waves to her sandaled feet—made her feel glamorous. She’d taken pleasure in the slightest widening of Adrian’s eyes when she’d walked out through the front door at five minutes to seven. He hadn’t complimented her, and this was most certainly not a date—as she’d reminded herself at least twenty times. But the confidence-boost from being on an equal footing had quieted her nerves.
Now Adrian sat across from her, his eyes coolly surveying his surroundings.
Tonight he’d donned another suit, obviously custom-tailored by the way it followed the lines of his solid, muscular frame. Everything from his lapels to his shoes was black, save for a burgundy tie. The dark colors made him look even more forbidding and formidable.
As much as she hated to admit it, Adrian knew the wine industry. The questions he’d shot at her, about everything from their competitors in the States to the strategy behind their latest marketing campaign, had revealed a sharp mind and a resolve to be number one in a very competitive business. And the conversation had turned out to be surprisingly enjoyable.
Whenever she’d talked about Fox Vineyards with the previous men she’d dated their eyes had glazed over and they’d responded with the occasional grunt. Adrian not only engaged with her, but he paid attention, his eyes never leaving her face as she talked.
The intimacy of his unwavering focus both shocked and thrilled her. She felt emotionally bare—naked to his intense scrutiny as she answered his questions—but she didn’t want to stop. It was exhilarating to be listened to and heard for what felt like the first time in years.
But, despite the surprising sensuality threading its way through their discussion, she managed to reply with detail and diplomacy. Adrian wasn’t just making pleasant small talk. No, he was testing her.
“What are your thoughts on the party?” he asked.
She took another deep sip of wine and looked out over the courtyard, trying to achieve the same aloofness he’d conveyed all evening. Did he not feel the electric tug of attraction between them? Or was he just ignoring it?
“In terms of...?”
“It will be an event that will set the tone for Fox moving forward under the Cabrera name. It’s not just about the customers, but the employees, too.”
He speared her with that dark gaze that sent sensual shivers up and down her spine.
“How would you accomplish that?”
Before she could answer their waiter reappeared, giving her a much-needed moment to think.
“Have you decided on your entrées?” the waiter asked.
Adrian glanced up and said something to him in Spanish. The waiter bowed his head, collected the menus and disappeared.
“I ordered for us,” Adrian said in reply to her quizzical look as he raised his wineglass to his lips.
Irritation rippled over her skin. “Typically, a guest gets a say in what she’s going to eat when dining out.”
