She’d given in too soon. That was what he was saying. If she’d hung out just a little bit longer she could have saved herself a soul crunching loss of pride.
Zeta arrived then, coming to a halt in surprise when she saw the two of them. ‘I thought you said—’
‘We changed our minds,’ Franco cut in ruefully. ‘Apparently, at the age of twenty-eight, I am too old for impulsive bursts of lusty passion.’
Lexi flushed up to the roots of
her shining hair and sent him a glowering glance. He just laughed huskily as he politely held out one of the chairs for her, then brushed a kiss across her hot cheek before he took the other chair.
Watching the way he moved, Lexi was becoming more aware of the difference a short twenty-four hours had made in him. His colour was good—fabulous, actually, she amended, watching the candlelight catch the lean golden contours of his face.
They ate their food and indulged in minor light dinner table talk, which was fine so long as she kept her vision slightly out of focus when she looked at him. However, there was nothing light about what was prowling around them, like a hungry tiger waiting for its moment to pounce on them both.
‘Tell me about these dozens of men you’ve been testing out while clubbing,’ he invited suddenly.
Now, there was an exaggeration if ever there was one, Lexi mused grimacingly, ‘It’s bad taste to kiss and tell,’ she deflected smoothly.
‘Dayton must disapprove.’
Lexi watched the candlelight flicker across the long stemmed, crystal glass she was fingering and felt a twinge of guilt over Bruce. ‘Bruce has just gone on the banned list,’ she stated flatly.
‘But he is such a major part of your life—’
‘Are you ready to talk about Marco?’ She shot the challenge from the hip and watched his expression shut down like a door slamming shut across his face.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Tell me about your childhood.’
Lexi pulled a face as that imaginary door slammed a second time. ‘Not much to tell.’ Reaching out, she spooned up a portion of Zeta’s homemade crème caramel and placed it in a dish. ‘I lived the first ten years of my life with my grandmother—’
‘Where was your mother?’ Franco frowned.
‘Working,’ Lexi said. ‘It’s the nature of the acting beast. She was in touring rep a lot then, and living out of a suitcase, so my grandmother brought me up. When she died, Grace had to take over caring for me, which basically meant leaving me in the care of a succession of friends in different cities while she had to work.’
‘That sounds much like the succession of nannies who had the pleasure of bringing me up after my mother died,’ Franco murmured.
‘Oh, poor little rich boy,’ Lexi teased him. ‘Your father thinks the absolute world of you and you know it.’
‘He was busy. He adored me when he had the time. If I wasn’t rattling around this huge place on my own, I was living in at a boarding school for rich kids.’
‘Is that where you met Marco?’ Lexi dared.
It didn’t gain her anything but the sight of his lips snapping together, before he parted them again and said, ‘We were talking about your childhood.’
‘Well, I didn’t make many friends.’ She grimaced. ‘It’s kind of difficult to form lasting friendships when you’re forever on the move like a travelling circus. Here—try some of this …’ Spooning up a portion of the dessert, she placed the dish in front of him. ‘It’s the most delicious thing I’ve tasted in years.’
‘So which did you prefer? The travelling circus or living with your grandmother?’ he probed, lifting up his spoon.
‘Oh, my grandmother,’ Lexi responded instantly. ‘She was a bit strict—scared, I think, that I might turn out to be what she called “frivolous” like Grace, but overall we got on well together.’
‘And your father? Did he have no part to play in your life back then?’
A part to play? She would have had to know who he was for him to have done that. ‘Why are you asking me all these questions about my past?’ she asked him, frowning as she sat back in her chair. ‘You were never interested about where I came from before.’
‘That is why I am asking now.’