something that would break the growing silence. Something witty. Something that would make her feel a little less dull. Dean’s eyes were now on her, a slight furrow forming between his brows.
Say something!
“I’ve never been here before. Do you come here often?”
Oh, no! Why had she asked that, of all things? A few seconds of silence followed the question before he spoke.
“Often enough.”
His jaw tightened a fraction.
This was definitely where he brought his women.
His women?
She crinkled her nose at that thought. Wow, she was really outdoing herself tonight. Worse, what if someone she knew was here? She sank a little lower in her seat, taking a sip of wine and swallowing it. “Really? It’s my very first time.”
Dean, who’d been in the process of lifting his glass to his lips, stopped with it midway to its goal. The furrow between his brows deepened, then he gave his head a slight shake as if clearing it and took a drink. A good-sized one if the movement of his throat was any indication.
Did he think she was flirting with him? She hoped not, because if he did, there was no telling what he might—
“What are you thinking about?”
Caught!
“My niece.”
Those words brought her back to earth with a bump. Her niece’s situation was the only reason she was sitting here in this restaurant.
Could the newborn sense the antagonism flowing between her and her sister, even in the SCBU? Abbie hadn’t spoken to her since the baby’s delivery, despite her mother’s attempts at playing peacemaker.
Poor Mum. Some anniversary this had turned out to be.
He set his wine down. “You said it was your fault. You know that’s not true.”
“Abbie and I were in the middle of a row. She went into labor. If I’d just walked away …”
Would the outcome have been any different? Abbie had been bound and determined to have her say.
But surely Jess could have changed the direction of the conversation. Maybe. Her sister had always known exactly which buttons to push—which insecurities to choose—to get her going. Today had been no exception.
“Coincidence.”
“Really? Stress can induce labor—you know that as well as I do.” She paused a beat and then let the rest of it out. “She thought I was sending suggestive texts to her husband.”
That got a reaction. Dean’s eyes narrowed just a touch. “Were you?”
“No!” She fiddled again with the corner of her serviette. “I mean, Martin and I were engaged at one time, but once he saw Abbie—”
She couldn’t finish the sentence.
Instead of pressing her for details, Dean chuckled.
That shocked her. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”
“Well, not funny exactly. So your sister had her eye on your fiancé, and now that she has his ring on her finger, she’s worried you might want him back.”
That was it in a nutshell. It had been six years, but Abbie just couldn’t let it go. It was one of the reasons Jess had moved to Cambridge in the first place, to get away from the constant haranguing and jealous questioning.
“I don’t want him. At all.”
“I can well imagine.”
Which brought her back to the current dilemma. “I have no idea how to make her believe me.”
The conversation paused when the waiter brought their food. Curried chicken with rice and vegetables served family style. Before she could lift a finger, Dean had taken her plate and dished up some of the fragrant food. Too bad she didn’t have much of an appetite at the moment.
Once Dean had served himself, he had no problem picking up where they’d left off. “So you think your sister is going to keep accusing you of trying to steal her husband … aka your ex.”
Using her fork, she speared a piece of chicken. “She lives in London, so, once she goes back, I’m hoping it’ll die back down. Or that Martin will be able to convince her we’re not communicating behind her back.”
“Mmm … I see.” He popped a bite into his mouth and chewed. Swallowed.
Why was she even telling him any of this? And what was with her watching the man’s throat? It had to be the way that sharp edge of his Adam’s apple dipped, causing her eyes to want to follow it. All the way down to his … She jerked her eyes back to his face.
Dean continued. “No current love interest to throw her off the trail?”
“No.” She hurriedly stuffed a piece of food into her mouth, even as she felt her face heat all over again. If he only knew how true those words were, he would think she was a complete washout when it came to the opposite sex.
In fact, the two of them should not even be having this conversation. She barely knew the man.
But what she did know of him … He was rumored to have a revolving bedroom door. Women in … women out. Swish, swish, swish turned that door.
“What if you did?” he murmured.
“Excuse me?”
He smiled at that. “You’re not going to turn that cute little glare back on, are you?”
“Excuse … I mean, what?”
“That’s better.” He set his fork down and reached across to touch his fingers to hers. A shot of electricity arced through her hand and zipped straight up her arm. “I was just sitting here thinking. Maybe you should hand her proof of a conquest or two?”
It was said with a cheeky air that made her laugh. Not because it was funny, but because he said it as though it weren’t such a stretch to imagine that she might have a long list of failed romances.
She didn’t. She left things like that to her sister. And to men like Dean.
“I don’t have any conquests.”
His index finger brushed along hers, sending another shiver through her. “Do you always say exactly what you think, Jessica Black?”
“No.” Although that wasn’t quite right. She did tend to wear her heart on her sleeve, which was why her sister had always been able to zero in on what Jess wanted out of life—on which boy Jess liked. Then she turned on her million-kilowatt charm and took it for herself.
“Oh, I think you do.” The low words curled around her midriff, squeezing the air from her
