instantly raised a hand for solemn vowing. ‘I swear I’ll give you first choice of each titbit.’
‘Okay, that’s a done deal,’ she said, closing the menu and slanting him a smile.
‘Sealed with a kiss,’ he said, bright blue eyes twinkling wickedly as he leaned closer still and pecked her on the cheek.
‘You can keep that mouth of yours for eating, Harry,’ she snapped, probably on the principle of give him an inch and he’d take a mile.
He grinned. ‘Elizabeth, I live for the day when I’ll eat you all up.’
‘That’ll be doomsday.’
‘With the gates of heaven opening for me,’ Harry retorted, his grin widening.
Lucy couldn’t help laughing.
Ellie heaved a long-suffering sigh and shook her head at him. ‘You are incorrigible.’
‘A man has to do what a man has to do,’ he archly declared, sending Lucy off into more peals of laughter.
He was fun. And totally irrepressible. She suspected that Ellie was holding out against him because she got a kick out of the sparring, as well as not wanting him to think she was an easy catch.
However, their selection of a seafood platter for two didn’t help Lucy with choices. She would have to order the same as Michael, which was okay. The steak should be very good here.
Michael was amused by Harry’s determined assault on Elizabeth’s defences, amused by her determined resistance to his charm, too. Most women would be lapping it up. His brother was going to have to work hard to win this one over, but the battle served to keep them occupied with each other, leaving him free to pursue the connection with Lucy.
He’d been quite stunned when Elizabeth had turned up at work this morning wearing the gorgeous butterfly blouse—totally atypical of her usual style in clothes. A birthday gift from her sister, she’d said—a sister who was as different from her as chalk and cheese. She was so right about that. He could see Elizabeth as a schoolma’m. Lucy promised to be a delicious array of exotic cheeses, and tasting all of it had already become a must-do in his life.
And despite her choice of white clothes today—very sexy white clothes—she was definitely the butterfly, flitting from job to job as though they all had some sweet nectar for her, tasting and moving on, clearly enjoying everything that life could offer her, wanting a whole range of experiences.
Including him.
Saw him, liked him, wanted him.
His head was still spinning with the excitement of her uninhibited response to their meeting. No games, no pretence, no guard up—just lovely open Lucy letting him know she found him as sexy as he found her. It was a struggle not to be in a constant state of arousal.
He thought of Fiona Redman, his most recent ex, who’d definitely been into female power games. The convenience of having her as a sexual partner did not stack up against the annoyance of being expected to toe her lines. No woman was ever going to decide for him when he should work and when he shouldn’t. The success of Finn Franchises had been top priority in his life ever since his father’s untimely death, and that was not about to change any time soon.
However, he would certainly make time to satisfy this sizzling lust for Lucy. It probably wouldn’t last long. the sheer novelty of her would wear off and the usual boredom or irritation would set in. He had never come across the magic glue that could make a relationship stick. He always found fault somewhere and that was the end of it. Quite possibly the fault was in him. Whatever…he was going to enjoy this woman as long as she stayed enjoyable.
The waiter returned and took their orders. Lucy chose the steak, too. Wanting to share everything with him? It was absolutely exhilarating being with her, especially when she turned those big brown eyes on him, the golden specks in them glowing with warmth.
‘You said dancing lessons interfered with sport, Michael. What did you like playing?’ Dimples flashed in her cheeks as she spoke.
He smiled reminiscently. ‘Everything in those days—cricket, baseball, tennis, soccer, rugby.’
‘Not now?’
‘They were mostly schoolboy passions. I still play tennis, but only socially. I have a couple of games of squash during the week to loosen up from too much desk work, and usually a round of golf at the weekend.’ She looked sublimely fit, probably from dancing, but out of interest he asked, ‘What about you? Any sporting passions?’
‘I can play tennis, but like you, only socially. At school I mostly concentrated on athletics.’
He grinned. ‘High-jump champion?’
His instant assumption surprised her. ‘How did you guess?’
‘Long legs. Great shape, too.’
And he couldn’t wait to have them wound around him in an intimate lock.
‘You’re obviously in great shape yourself,’ she retorted, her eyes simmering with the same kind of thoughts, driving his excitement metre higher. Then, as though taking a mental back step, she added, ‘I also play netball with a group of friends once a week. I always keep up with my girlfriends. Men can come and go, but real friends stay in your life.’
‘You don’t count any men as real friends?’
‘A few gay guys. They’re lovely people. Lots of empathy and caring.’
‘No straight ones?’
Her dimples deepened as her luscious lips twitched into a provocative little smile. ‘Well, sooner or later most straight men turn into frogs.’
‘Frogs?’ he repeated, needing enlightenment. He’d heard ‘empathy and caring’ loud and clear but ‘frogs’?
Her eyes danced teasingly at him. ‘You suddenly turn up in my life and everything about you shouts that you’re a prince amongst men.’
A prince. That was a surprisingly sweet stroke to his ego.
Her hands lifted in a helpless gesture. ‘But how do I know you won’t turn into a frog tomorrow?’
‘Ah!’ he said, understanding. ‘You’ve been with guys who haven’t lived up to their promise.’
She shrugged prettily, the off-the-shoulder sleeve of her peasant blouse sliding lower on her upper arm. ‘It happens,’ she said in airy dismissal. ‘I’m hoping not to be disappointed with you, Michael.’
The seductive challenge sizzled straight to his groin. He was up for it, all right. He wished he could whizz her straight off to bed. How long would this birthday luncheon go on—main course, sweets, coffee? At least another hour and a half. He’d give Elizabeth the rest of the afternoon off, take Lucy to his penthouse apartment. Although…
‘Do you have to get back to work this afternoon?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I do,’ she answered ruefully. ‘I have to deliver the angels’ heads to the stonemason, take the van back to the office, then
