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"Perhaps wine without bubbles?" he asked, looking at the expensive champagne like it was pig swill.
"It wasn't the champagne. It was something I thought…it was funny and I started to laugh, but I was drinking." She shrugged. "Not a great combination."
Lysander's expression turned thoughtful, and she knew he was replaying their recent conversation in his head. She could see the moment he realized what had amused her.
He leaned forward and said sotto voce, "I am neversoftwhen I am around you."
Rowan laughed again, the sound low and throaty, garnering several speculative looks from the others at their table.
But no one said anything, and the conversation turned to the Greece National Lacrosse Team and its chances of making a showing in international competition.
Rowan knew the team had been created in 2018 and that was about it. She wasn't big on sports, much preferring a comfy chair and a good book for her downtime. Several guests were clear enthusiasts though and the conversation carried them through the starter and into the main course.
Lysander was knowledgeable, but not keenly interested, though no one else at the table seemed to notice that.
Huh.
"Does your company support a lacrosse team?" Rowan asked him as she cut into what looked like a perfectly cooked sea bream filet. It flaked apart with her fork, no knife required.
"Several of my subsidiary holdings field teams for competition. It has become a near mania." He gave her a look. "Few things can make me that excited."
That look said she was one of them.
Heat washed through her, and Rowan smiled. "I can return the compliment."
"I didn't say anything."
"Didn't you?"
His smile was all the answer she needed.
"I have never seen the boss smile this much in a year," the media liaison said, back to his chatty self. "Not even when we managed to quash all rumors of a takeover so the stock didn't rise before he could make his move."
"He was talking about the many lacrosse teams the subsidiary companies in Baros International field."
"I'm on one. It's a lot of fun," said another man at the table. "But Baros International is a sponsor for the national team."
"I hadn't realized that."
"We have a budget for that sort of thing and one of my management team was passionate about it, so…" Lysander shrugged, like donating millions to supporting a new national sport was no big deal.
"It's not really your thing though, is it?" Rowan asked, wanting to know if she'd read him right.
He shook his head. "No, I am a traditional man and football is my sport of choice."
Rowan remembered learning how popular what they called soccer back home was in Europe. Some businesses even shut down so employees could watch the world cup.
"You may prefer football, but I don't think you're much of a traditionalist."
"You do not?" he asked, his brows raised.
What did that mean? "Considering our current situation, no."
"Oh ho, she has your number my son," Iona said with glee. "My son who sees himself astraditional, does he marry? No. Does he give me grandbabies to dote on? He does not!"
Rowan was in danger of choking on her champagne again, so she set the glass down and reached for her water. But Iona cracked her up. The mom who had lived anything but a conventional life, wanted her son to settle down and get married.
And give her grandchildren.
