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She picked up another shell. ‘These are so good. Aren’t you having any?’
She angled the shell, swallowed the oyster down and closed her eyes, savouring the taste on her tongue for a moment before tipping her head back and letting the fish slide down her delicate throat.
Xav shifted on his chair, grateful they were seated at his dining table in the open-plan living area. The tabletop hid what his sweatpants most definitely did not.
‘I can take or leave shellfish.’
‘You don’t mind if I have the last one?’
He flourished a hand. ‘Be my guest.’
She ma
de short work of the last oyster, wiped her mouth on a napkin and took a sip of her white wine. Her gaze moved over the selection of tapas dishes spread across the table. ‘This is fancy for takeout.’
‘It’s from a local restaurant.’
‘And they deliver?’
‘They do for me.’
She pulled one of the plates closer, eyeing the deep-fried balls of potato and minced meat drizzled with aioli and spicy sauce. ‘I think I know these—they’re bombas, aren’t they?’
‘Sí. You’ve had them before?’
She nodded. ‘My first night here. I went for a wander through the city and ended up eating at a small tapas bar.’ She picked up her fork. ‘I remember these were delicious.’
He frowned. ‘Alone?’
She finished her mouthful. ‘Yum! Even better than the ones I had before. Yes.’ She glanced up at him. ‘Alone.’
The thought of her walking the city streets at night unaccompanied sent an icy trickle down his spine. ‘Why do this trip on your own?’ he asked abruptly. ‘Don’t you have someone who would have travelled with you?’
She shrugged. ‘My friends are working. And if one of them had taken some leave to come with me it would have meant a more disciplined timeframe and itinerary. I don’t have a job waiting for me, and travelling by myself gives me flexibility. If I want to spend a few extra nights somewhere, or change the order of places I visit, I can.’
He couched his next question in a more casual tone. ‘How much time did you plan to spend in Spain?’
She pushed her hair out of her face. ‘About three and a half weeks. I plan to travel for about a month altogether, but I want to do a few days in London on my way back.’
‘Why London?’
Another shrug. ‘It’s on my list. I’ve always wanted to see Les Misérables in the West End.’
‘You have a list?’
She broke off another chunk of bomba. ‘I have two lists. A “must” list and an “if there’s time” list. Both include places to see and things to do.’
He sipped his wine. ‘What else is on your “must” list?’
She swallowed her food. ‘Mallorca,’ she said with a pointed glance. No doubt to emphasise that Mallorca was where she’d be now, if not for him.
Xav sent back a smouldering look to remind her she hadn’t complained about that an hour ago, when she’d been naked and underneath him.
Her face turned pink and she cleared her throat. ‘Madrid and...um... A few other places.’
An idea flashed into his head. One that, as he turned it over a few times and examined it more closely for potential flaws, seemed remarkably brilliant and foolproof.
‘Come with me to Madrid for a few days.’
