sprawled across the back of the booth, his eyes gleaming in an otherwise impassive face…his gaze narrowed on the finger in her mouth.
Flustered, Colleen reverted to using her napkin.
“Every time you’ve ordered food for the staff at The Family Center, you’ve ordered from Bistro Campagne,” she said, referring to what was arguably the nicest restaurant in Harbor County.
“And so you came to the conclusion that I’m a snob, is that it?” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.
“I never said that,” Colleen replied defensively, even though she had difficulty meeting his stare. She’d never spoken her thoughts out loud, but she actually had been annoyed when Eric had ordered expensive catered luncheons during special occasions and holidays. It always seemed to smack of patronization—the great Dr. Reyes lavishing the little people with a treat to liven up their small lives.
He made a scoffing noise. She scowled at him. She really did dislike him at times. So why was it they seemed to have the ability to read each other’s minds so effortlessly?
“I arranged the luncheons through Bistro Campagne because my housekeeper also happens to do catering events there, so it’s easy. I give her dates and some vague details, and she turns my request into something that makes me look like I know what I’m doing.” He gave her a pointed glance. “With most
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
