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A sudden tension had crept into her shoulders, which was at odds with the lightness of her response. ‘And should I be flattered?’
‘That’s up to you.’ He put his glass down and studied her. ‘But since the balance of information between us is so unevenly distributed, don’t you think it’s time we did something to redress that?’
Nicola couldn’t compute his words and not just because he was talking in that analytical and scientific way of his. In fact, she was having difficulty catching her breath, because wasn’t this what she had been secretly dreading for weeks? She might have limited experience of dating men, but she wasn’t stupid. She’d been aware for a while that Alessio was relaxing his guard more and more, and that a closeness between them seemed to be developing. At first she’d put it down to sex until she was forced to acknowledge that they shared a compatibility outside bed, which she suspected was rare for him. But she had wanted things to stay exactly as they were, because it was safer that way. To preserve their transatlantic affair in aspic and keep it perfect.Thishad never been on her agenda. He wasn’tsupposedto want to get to know her better.
Like all men, he hadn’t been interested in asking her any personal questions and she had been more than content for that state of affairs to continue. Hoping her smile didn’t betray her sudden nerves, she tilted her head to one side. ‘And how do you propose we go about that?’
‘Oh, come, Nicola. It’s not rocket science.’
‘No, because I guess that would be your speciality.’
His eyes glittered. ‘Just tell me something about your life.’
‘My life?’ she echoed weakly. ‘Like what?’
‘Parents. Siblings. Where you were born. Whether your mother used to bake you a cake for your birthday—that kind of thing. That’s not such a big ask, is it?’ He ran his finger around the edge of his crystal goblet. ‘I thought all women liked to talk about themselves.’
Nicola plucked a bread roll from the basket on the table and proceeded to crumble it into a small pile of crumbs on her side plate. And all the time her mind was performing somersaults. She thought about what she could tell him about her growing-up years. Her mother baking a cake! It might have been funny if it weren’t so sad.
Because even if Alessio were somebody ordinary—if he’d grown up in the suburbs, eating a roast dinner every Sunday—her story would still ruffle the feathers of all but the most liberal-minded. And Alessio was definitelynotordinary. Far from it. He wasn’t asking because hecaredabout her, but because the distribution of information was unequal and he was a scientist who liked a sense of balance. What if she blurted out the truth about the current situation with Stacey and baby Jago? If she mentioned that she didn’t know what would happen once Callum was released. Mightn’t he respond in the same way he had done last time, with that slightly arrogant smile curving his lips as he reached for his metaphorical wallet?
‘How much do you need?’
That would be unendurable.
Last time he’d offered her money, it had been nothing but a transaction. He had needed something from her and had paid for it accordingly. But now it was different. She was having sex with him. How would she feel if he offered her money now? Her skin grew icy. Like her mother? The mother she had vowed never to emulate, who would take whatever she could from a man in return for ‘favours’. She stared down at the crumbled bread, knowing she had a choice. She could refuse to answer him, but she suspected that would create even more problems. Or she could shut the conversation down right now, leave—and never see him again. He was certainly too proud to demand to know why she had walked away.
But that was an over-the-top response because she didn’t want to walk away. Not yet. Not when he was still giving her the kind of pleasure she’d never thought could exist for someone like her. It would end soon enough. So why not satisfy his curiosity and give him aversionof her life? Because wasn’t that what everyone did, when it boiled down to it? They edited their backstory to make it palatable.
‘I was born in East London and, like you, I didn’t ever get to meet my father. So, well... I’m illegitimate, too.’
He nodded as he absorbed this, but he didn’t comment on it. ‘And your mother?’
‘She’s still alive.’
‘You still see her?’
‘Of course. Not that often.’
‘And brothers? Sisters?’
‘I have one brother. He’s...he’s away a lot of the time.’ Nicola knew she was playing with words, but what was the alternative? Ill-disguised horror as she exposed the brittle roots of the Bennett family tree? No. She wanted to keep this as brief as possible. ‘His girlfriend Stacey has just had a baby.’
She chose that last statement deliberately, knowing his aversion to having children, but to her surprise, he smiled.
‘So you’re an aunt?’
‘Yes, I’m an aunt.’
‘Boy or girl?’
‘A little boy. Jago.’
‘Ah. His father must be pleased.’
She wanted to tell him to stop being so unpredictable. Why was he reacting with consideration on a subject which couldn’t possibly interest him? Because it was confusing the hell out of her. When he was tearing off her clothes she knew exactly where she stood, but right now he was sending out mixed messages and she was terrified of getting the wrong idea. His brow was creased in a faint frown, as if her brief replies weren’t what he had been expecting—but fortunately their oysters arrived and fussing with lemon quarters and raspberry vinegar gave her time to compose herself.
‘Mmm...’ she said, but even though she usually loved oysters, the cold mollusc felt faintly repugnant as it slid down her throat. Suddenly she heard her phone vibrating from the bottom of her handbag and some sixth sense urged her not to ignore it, because who would ring her at this time of night unless something was wrong? Knowing she was about to break a social taboo, she met Alessio’s gaze across the table. ‘Would you mind if I answered that?’
