Tiago smiled his bad-boy smile. ‘You do know that a candlelit dinner is usually a prelude to sex?’
‘If you think that’s going to tip the balance—’ She stopped, noticing that the respectable townsfolk at the tables surrounding them were listening in with avid interest.
‘I think they like me,’ Tiago murmured, with amusement in his dark eyes.
She sucked in a sharp breath as he lifted her hand to his lips.
‘Stop,’ she warned him, pulling her hand back. ‘I’ve agreed to supper—nothing more.’
‘That’s all I’m offering,’ Tiago assured her. ‘Sex isn’t on the menu tonight.’
Now she was hit by doubt. Why didn’t he want sex? Had Tiago found someone else? She felt sick at the thought.
‘If this is another of your games...’
Leaning across the table until their faces almost touched, he whispered, ‘The only game I play is polo.’
‘Is it?’ She was still tense.
‘Although I do have a repertoire of games that don’t require a horse and a mallet to make them fun.’
She made an incredulous sound as Tiago sat back with a confident smile on his face. He continued to regard her steadily, his amused black stare warming her, and even when he looked away to call for the bill a sweet pulse of desire throbbed deep inside her.
DANNY WAS ALWAYS CALM, always measured—at least that was what she told herself—except for tonight, when she was catapulting from one side of her room to the other, trying on clothes and trying to decide how she should wear her hair.
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