‘I think caviare’s revolting,’ said Nicola frankly, wrinkling her nose. ‘Granny had it at one of her cocktail parties. I don’t know how you can bear to eat it.’
‘Actually she didn’t,’ Marcus pointed out with a straight face, but with eyes that were mocking.
‘I only wanted a taste,’ said Harriet airily.
‘Are you going to only taste everything else you ordered too?’ asked Marcus wryly.
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I live from moment to moment.’ At least she had got him off the subject of Tim.
Fortunately for her stomach, for she had discovered that her flippant claim to being ravenous was actually fact, her main course was divine, and she fell on it with dainty greed, closing her eyes in blissful gratitude as her first bite of venison melted on her tongue, releasing a tantalising burst of flavour from the exotic stuffing and cunningly blended medley of sauces. When she opened her eyes it was to see Marcus, fork arrested in the air as he watched her embrace the glory of the food with her whole being.
‘Good?’
It was—so much so that she couldn’t resent his amusement.
‘Fabulous!’ she sighed. In the past year she had been in danger of forgetting that food could be more than merely fuel for the body, it could be an inspiration to the senses!
‘Well, perhaps this is a good time to suggest that it might be an excellent idea to have someone give you a few lessons on the correct handling of a high-performance vehicle, so you don’t attract the attention of any more friendly policemen.’
Harriet almost choked on a piece of meat. She coughed into her napkin and stared at him suspiciously over the starched white folds. ‘Like who, for instance?’
‘Well, I’ve owned a sports car or two myself, in my distant, salad days…when I had more testosterone than sense. I think I could provide you with some valuable advice.’
The idea of being trapped in the intimate confines of her sexy new car with Marcus Fox critically observing her every reaction to the traffic—and to him—gave her the shivers.
‘Thank you, but I don’t think—’
‘I think you should, Harriet,’ Nicola interrupted quietly. ‘The man who killed my mother was driving a rental car, and Granny told me that the police said he put it into the wrong gear when he was trying to avoid a collision and that’s why he swerved into Mummy’s car.’
‘Oh, I didn’t know,’ said Harriet, her antagonism abruptly subdued.
‘Daddy’s good at explaining things and he’s really patient. He won’t shout at you if you do something wrong.’
‘Consider it a small favour in exchange for a large lunch,’ he said blandly. ‘Shall we say you’ll take me for a small spin after work this evening?’ His mouth quirked. ‘Not literally, of course…’
‘I’m sorry, I’m busy this evening,’ Harriet was pleased to be able to tell him truthfully. ‘I’ll have to rush home to get ready as it is.’
‘Nightclubbing again?’ he asked sardonically.
‘No, I have a lesson in Thai cooking.’
‘Fair enough. Tomorrow evening, then.’
‘Tomorrow is Saturday,’ she pointed out.
‘All the better.’
‘Not for me. I’m going to be away all weekend,’ she said cheerfully.
His cool look became alert. ‘Away where?’
‘The tramping club I’ve joined. We’re going down to Coromandel to tramp a national-park trail. We won’t be back until late Sunday night.’
He frowned. ‘Monday, then.’
She had to think. ‘French For Beginners.’
‘Tuesday?’