far wide of the mark that Aimi almost laughed. ‘I dress to please myself, not a man,’ she was quick to point out.
He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Is that so? Are you trying to tell me nobody ever gets to see the exotic lingerie you wear? That would be a crying shame!’
Memories of those moments in the kitchen last night made her wince inwardly. ‘My clothes are none of your business. I would not have gone downstairs had I known you were there.’
‘Then I would have had to spend the night down by the pool, and never have got to see you in that mind-blowing confection of silk and lace. It’s imprinted on my memory even now.’ Jonas shifted, bringing one leg up to prop his ankle over the other knee. ‘Seems to me, I know something about you that no other man does. Under that starchy exterior you like to wear satin and silk. What other secrets do you have, I wonder?’
‘None that you will ever know!’ Aimi shot back curtly but, instead of responding, Jonas merely smiled as he watched her.
‘What happened to your hair last night? You weren’t wearing it up in the kitchen,’ he observed, and her nerves gave a giant leap.
‘I don’t sleep with my hair pinned up,’ she explained calmly, only to see his smile broaden.
‘You know what I think, Aimi Carteret?’
‘Your thoughts couldn’t interest me less!’ she retorted witheringly, making him laugh.
‘I think you practice to deceive.’
That was too close to the truth for comfort. ‘Like I said, your thoughts are of no interest to me. You are of no interest to me!’
‘Whilst you are of considerable interest to me,’ Jonas countered smoothly. ‘I find myself thinking about you all the time.’
‘How boring for you!’ Aimi said, and he laughed—a sensual sound that sent goose-bumps down her spine.
‘Oh, I have the feeling that you will never bore me, darling Aimi.’
The unexpected endearment sent a shockwave through her system, and her breathing went awry. ‘I am not your darling.’
‘Not yet, I agree,’ he conceded, but his assertion didn’t make her feel any better.
Goaded, her temper rose. ‘Never!’
He looked her directly in the eyes before speaking. ‘Ah, you should never say never. I discovered that myself last night. I would have bet good money that I would never find it hard to sleep in my old bed, but last night proved me wrong. I was terribly restless,’ he explained with a wicked grin, mayhem in his eyes.
‘You can’t possibly blame me for that,’ Aimi argued, as her nerves responded with a now familiar skitter. It was as if her defences had totally vanished, leaving her open to react to everything he said or did. She didn’t understand how they could have abandoned her now, when she needed them most.
‘Can I not?’ Jonas countered, lips twitching with barely concealed humour. ‘You were the one who raised my blood pressure,’ he remarked sardonically, taking another mouthful of coffee from the cup on the table.
Somehow Aimi contrived to maintain her cool expression. ‘My blood pressure didn’t need lowering. I went to bed and slept dreamlessly,’ she added for good measure, mentally crossing her fingers at the lie.
‘Hmm,’ he murmured doubtfully, running his hand over his chin. ‘There’s more to you than meets the eye.’ Aimi merely raised her eyebrows. After a moment Jonas continued, ‘Did you know I was supposed to be in America this weekend? Fortunately, the meeting was called off at the last minute.’
‘Much to everyone’s delight,’ she remarked dryly, and something flashed in the recesses of his eyes.
He laughed. ‘Nicely done, Aimi. Very tactful. It’s no wonder Nick speaks so highly of you.’
‘I do my best,’ she replied smoothly, not bothered that he recognised what she was doing, just grateful she had the skill to draw upon.
‘Ah, here comes the cavalry,’ Jonas declared dryly, and Aimi glanced round to see that Nick had appeared with their breakfast. ‘Not a moment too soon, eh?’
Nick had overheard that remark and, as he placed her cup and plate before Aimi, he glanced at his brother. ‘What’s not too soon?’ he queried, frowning, and Jonas grinned at him.
‘Your arrival with the food. Aimi was getting ready to eat the table.’
‘Sorry I took so long,’ Nick apologised, and she shot Jonas a warning look.
‘You didn’t. Jonas is pulling your leg.’
‘He has a habit of doing that,’ Nick confirmed wryly.
Jonas’s lips twitched and he sat up straighter. ‘Actually, I was flirting with Aimi, and she was giving me a hard time.’
‘Good for you, Aimi!’ Nick encouraged her, giving her a wink. ‘There are too many women who fall into his arms at a click of his fingers already!’ He took the chair next to her and started to wolf down his breakfast. Aimi followed suit, and silence fell over the table.
‘What time are the hordes descending?’ Jonas asked some time later.
‘Midday onwards. Then it’s the same old drill. Dad will be doing his usual cremation job on the bangers and burgers!’
Jonas grinned and glanced at Aimi. ‘Have you been to one of our beanfeasts before?’
She couldn’t help smiling at their amusement. ‘No, this is my first,’ she admitted. She was a little nervous about meeting the family. Finding herself amidst a group of strangers had been commonplace once, and she had thrown herself into the party mood with enthusiasm. Since that awful day, though, the thought of laughing and having fun had seemed wrong. How could she ever do that again, as if nothing had happened, when she was the one at fault? She couldn’t and live with herself, so she had avoided parties, and her so-called friends had slowly drifted away. These days she preferred small, intimate dinners with people she knew well.
‘Then you’re in for quite an experience!’ Jonas told her with droll humour, breaking her introspective mood.
Nick clicked his fingers. ‘Hey, do you remember when…’
Aimi tuned out as the brothers took a humorous trip down memory lane. Sitting back in her seat and slowly eating her last croissant, she watched them both closely. They were very much alike. Both were handsome men, but Nick’s face had softer lines. His hair was dark brown, whilst Jonas’s was black. Nick exuded warmth, gentleness and caring, yet it was Jonas’s more rugged lines that drew her attention.
Quite unexpectedly, Aimi found herself wanting to reach out and trace the lines of his face, to commit them to memory. Which was a ridiculous thing to be thinking. She did not want to remember him. The sooner they parted company, the better. Yet, as soon as the thought entered her head, one small part of her suddenly felt lost. She looked down at her coffee cup, frowning in yet more confusion. What was it about him that touched her? Good Lord, he only wanted one thing from her. Yet…there was just something about him.
The
