There was a fraction of a pause and then she felt his gaze sweep over her like a searchlight.
‘I’m guessing you had a bad experience with The Ring Cycle.’
She gazed at him blankly. ‘The what?’
‘Der Ring des Nibelungen by Wagner. Lasts about fifteen hours. I thought it might be why you hate opera.’
She shuddered. ‘Is that what we were going to watch?’
Shaking his head, he smiled—a smile so sweet, so irresistible, that Daisy instantly forgot all her misery and confusion.
‘No. I wouldn’t inflict that on my worst enemy.’
‘Well, speaking as your worst enemy, I’m very grateful,’ she said lightly.
His smile faded. ‘You’re not my worst enemy.’
Daisy gazed up at him. His eyes were focused on her face, so clear and green and deep that suddenly she wanted to dive in and drown in them.
‘But you hate me...’ For some reason she didn’t understand her voice was shaking, the words dancing away from her like leaves on the wind.
Leaning towards her, he lifted his hand and touched her cheek. ‘I don’t hate you,’ he said softly.
Her heart was somersaulting in her chest. It was lucky she was sitting down, because she could feel that gravity had stopped working and if she were standing up, she would simply have floated away.
His hand was tracing the line of her jaw, his thumb gently stroking the skin. She sat still and mute, hypnotised both by the tenderness of his touch and his fierce, shimmering gaze. Around her the walls were tilting inwards, spinning slowly.
Throat drying, she took a quick, jagged breath like a gasp. ‘I don’t hate you either.’
Suddenly she couldn’t be so close to him and not touch him back and, reaching out, she put a hand on his arm. His skin felt smooth and warm, li
ke carved wood. But it was his mouth—that beautiful, curving mouth—that made her body quiver, a hot, humid tension building inside her like a summer storm.
She breathed out softly. ‘I didn’t bring any dessert.’
His eyes locked on to hers and they stared at one another in silence. And then he dropped his gaze and, glancing down at his wrist, said quietly, ‘It’s late. We should head home.’
As they stood in the corridor, waiting for the lift, Daisy felt his gaze on the side of her face. ‘What is it? Did you forget something?’
He shook his head. ‘No.’
He paused and she felt that tension again—that indecision.
‘Thanks for the pizza. It was fun.’ Frowning, he cleared his throat. ‘I just want you to know that I didn’t suggest we go to the opera just because I have a box.’
She nodded dumbly.
There was clearly more to his words than their literal meaning, and part of her badly wanted to question him further. But instead she simply reached out and took his hand. ‘And I want you to know that you don’t have to worry. We can make this work.’
She felt his surprise and braced herself, expecting him to pull away. But after a moment his fingers tightened around hers, and as they stepped into the lift together she breathed out softly.
It might not be happy-ever-after, but it was a truce of sorts.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘GOOD MORNING, MS MADDOX. I’m Kate and I’ll be your personal therapist this morning.’
Looking up, Daisy smiled apprehensively at the slim young woman standing in front of her. Back at home she’d had manicures and the occasional facial. But the Tahara Sanctuary was one of New York’s most exclusive spas. Everything oozed sophistication and exclusivity. In fact, it was so exclusive that she had an entire relaxation suite just to herself.