could not tell from his voice and was too busy removing the flan cups from the still simmering water to look at him. “You sounded tired the last time I spoke to you on the phone. I thought eating in would be more relaxing.”
“You did not have to cook.”
She turned to face him, biting her lower lip. “I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped the mark.”
His shook his head, his expression wry. “You did not overstep, but you have surprised me.”
“Good. That was the whole idea.” She smiled at him. “I hope you like curry.”
“I love it.”
She’d thought that might be the case when she’d found pretty much all the ingredients she needed already stocked in the kitchen’s large pantry.
He took a shower while she put the food on the table.
He joined her, wearing a pair of jeans and a ribbed cotton shirt and looking like an advertisement for Men’s Fitness Magazine. It was all she could do not to drool.
“I’ve never had a woman cook for me before.” He surveyed the serving dishes filled with rice, chicken curry and spicy grilled vegetables. “It is a novel experience.”
She started serving the food. “Good novel, or bad novel?”
“Definitely good. It makes me feel indulged.” He reached out and touched her, his fingertips trailing down her arm, leaving shivery goose bumps behind. “I am usually the one doing the pampering.”
She didn’t like the reminder he had more pillow friends than silk ties, and it made her insecure.
She arranged the food on her plate with no desire to taste any of it and refused to meet his eyes. “I’m sure the other women in your life are far too sophisticated to enjoy a meal at home and an old movie on the television afterward.”
She must seem so gauche to him. She knew the women in his world didn’t do the domestic bit, so why had she?
Because she liked to and her newly acknowledged love had demanded an expression.
When he’d called that afternoon to tell her he would be later than expected, he’d sounded exhausted, discouraged even. She had wanted to do something to help, but what was the point?
He had a housekeeper who could cook for him if he wanted to eat in. She would have spent the afternoon better occupied in an attempt to improve her image than acquainting herself with his kitchen.
“So is that what is on offer for later?”
“What?” Her head jolted up and she met his slate gaze, having lost the train of the conversation with her mental rambling.
“A movie.”
“If you like.”
He smiled and some of the tension inside her dissipated. “I like.”
He took a bite of his dinner with every evidence of enjoyment and she followed suit, appreciating the burst of spicy sensation from the curry.
“How did you know I liked classic movies?” he asked a few minutes later.
“I didn’t, but I’m glad you do.” Or was he just trying to be kind? “Look, we don’t have to watch it if you don’t want to. This scene must seem pretty tame to you.”
She indicated the table and her own less than perfectly coifed appearance. Her knee length khaki straight skirt and casual knit top would have been perfect for an evening at home in California, but were too sloppy for dinner with a man like Sebastian, she now appreciated.
Oh, well. She could hardly run into her room and change without looking like an idiot.
Sebastian had stopped eating and was looking at her.
She paused with her fork midway to her mouth. “What?”
“I like it.”
“You like it?” She really wasn’t grasping the conversation tonight.
“I enjoy being pampered. I like that you did all this for me and I like the idea of spending a couple of hours with you cuddled against me while we watch a movie.”
“I don’t fit in your world very well, Sebastian.” She’d never fit in her mother’s either. She wasn’t the rich and famous type.
“Did I not just say I liked all this?” He looked confused.
“Yes, but you’re simply being kind.”
“I’m being honest.” He frowned at her. “Do not spoil a special night doubting my sincerity.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Special?”
“Yes. Special. Believe it or not, the effort you made here is very special to me. I like it,” he stressed again.
Finally, she let herself believe him. “I’m glad. I wanted you to feel spoiled, but it didn’t occur to me until you’d gotten home that you could have had your housekeeper cook you a meal if you wanted to stay home.”
“But you did it because you wanted me to relax. Because you cared.”
And it occurred to her that sophisticated, or not, she’d tapped into a real well of pleasure as far as her tycoon companion was concerned. He really did appreciate the personal touch. She beamed at him.
“And the night, it is not over. This wonderful dinner is only the beginning.”
She swallowed hastily at the look in his eyes. She didn’t think he was referring to the movie. If he meant what she suspected he meant, she would not deny him. She couldn’t.
She loved him and if she were ever going to make love with a man, it would be Sebastian Kouros.
She licked suddenly dry lips and forced herself to say what needed to be said. “Tonight can be as special as you want it to be.”
Recognition and desire flared in his eyes before a pained expression came over his features. “I want you, but I am not promising marriage here.”
If he had one more ounce of tactlessness and one less of romantic idealism, he would be so basic, he wouldn’t even have a rung on the evolutionary ladder. He was telling her he appreciated what she’d done tonight, would probably like even better the use of her body, but none of it altered the truth between them.
They had no future.
“I never thought you were. How could you? I’m Andrea’s daughter and the last thing your family needs is a constant reminder of the pain she brought you all.”
He opened his mouth to speak again, but she jumped up from the table. She’d had enough of this conversation. “Let me get dessert.”
One more minute in his company right now and she would end up telling him to call one of his sophisticated women friends as commitment phobic as he was to make his
