to him, a touch of the untamed as he watched her approach, and his eyes told her he approved as to her outfit choice.
Navy eyes, Emily noted, and smiled as she added another detail to tonight’s dream.
‘I didn’t get your surname?’ Emily said as he took her elbow and they walked out into the street and to his waiting car.
‘I did not give it,’ Anton responded. ‘Do you really think I want you quoting me?’
‘No....’ She was more than a little nervous now. His low black sports car was as expensive looking as he was, and as the door closed on her and he climbed in, she knew he could be taking her anywhere. ‘I do like to know who I’m dealing with, though. You could be anyone.’
‘So could you,’ Anton pointed out, starting the engine. ‘Do you usually go out for dinner with men you have only just met?’
‘In my line of work, yes,’ Emily said in a rather hopeless attempt to remind him that she was here only for business, except she knew she was fooling herself.
Despite what Adam might think, Emily was, in her own way, tough. She kept her wits about her at all times. She had to in her line of work. Yet around Anton she was struggling to keep her head. From the second he had stepped into the elevator, he had been heavily on her mind.
Emily sneaked a look at his strong profile. He was easily the sexiest-looking man she had ever been out with, but it wasn’t just his looks that attracted her to him; it was the mystery and the intrigue that she found intoxicating. She could not read him. He handled the car with ease. He was far from tense in the heavy traffic. If anything he seemed a little bored by the roadblocks set up for the coming wedding. The crowds gathering and spilling out onto the streets did not faze him either. Yet there was an edge to him she could not place, a guardedness in his responses that told Emily he did not readily welcome intrusion.
‘You have a question?’ As if he could feel her scrutiny, he turned to her.
‘I have many,’ Emily said as he turned his attention back to the traffic.
‘Go ahead.
‘Who are you?’
‘I thought you wanted to find out about the Correttis.’
‘I do, but—’
‘Keep your questions to them.’
They pulled up outside a very smart restaurant. People were lined up outside and Emily was glad that he had booked ahead—Anton wasn’t exactly liberal with small talk. The car door was opened for them, and it was clear the doorman knew him because there was a brief greeting. As she walked into the restaurant, Emily blinked. The place really was sumptuous, the guests elegant. The smell of herbs and garlic had Emily’s mouth watering.
Instead of being led through to the main restaurant, though, they were taken upstairs. Emily assumed it was because they were a last-minute booking. Only as she rounded the bend on the stairs did she realise that this section was the most exclusive, and she was terribly grateful for the prompt from Anton to dress formally. The jewels on the elegant guests glittered more than the candles on the beautifully dressed tables. One wall was glassed, French windows leading out to a balcony where the guests ate to the stunning backdrop of the Mediterranean at sunset.
Anton had better have some good information. Otherwise she was going to have hell to pay when she put in her expenses.
He spoke with their host as they walked through the restaurant, and when they reached their table, Emily frowned as instead of sitting opposite her, Anton took a seat to her side, their waiter hastily rearranging the place settings.
‘I like to face the view,’ he said. He was sitting so close that their knees briefly brushed and Emily pulled hers away.
‘You are nervous,’ he commented.
‘Do you blame me?’ Emily asked, and then it happened. The man who had given her nothing suddenly gave her the first thing her mind had begged for on meeting him—she was treated to his smile. His full mouth moved slowly and she saw his white, perfectly straight teeth. But more than that, his face lightened as his smile reached right to his eyes and claimed Emily’s ability to breathe in the process.
‘You have nothing to be nervous about,’ Anton said. ‘You are with me.’
‘Which tells me nothing,’ Emily responded with a wry smile, but yes, despite her nervousness around him, she did not feel unsafe.
‘Wine?’ he asked, but Emily shook her head.
‘Not while I’m working.’ This was, perhaps, a poor excuse. Normally Emily would be the one ordering it in the hope that whoever she was interviewing might open up a touch further, but she felt terribly aware that she needed to somehow stay in control here. ‘Speaking of work...’ She went to her bag to pull out her recorder but as she did, his hand closed over hers.
‘Not here.’ There was a slightly ominous note to his voice, and she looked at the hand closed over hers. ‘Why would you draw attention to yourself?’
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