Her heart began to beat faster.
Except she knew from experience that it would matter. And that smile wasn’t a challenge. It was a warning—a red light flashing. Danger! Keep away!
Breathing in, she gave him a quick, neutral smile of her own. ‘Now, this menu!’ Holding her smile in place, she forced a casual note into her voice. ‘My French is pretty non-existent, so I might need a little help ordering.’
‘Don’t worry. I speak it fluently.’
‘You do?’ She gazed at him, torn between disbelief and wonder.
He shrugged. ‘My mother always wanted to live in Paris, but it didn’t work out. So she sent me to school there.’
Nola frowned. ‘Paris! You mean Paris in France?’
‘I don’t think they speak French in Paris, Texas.’
His face was expressionless. but there was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before.
Her eyes met his, then bounced away. ‘That’s such a long way from here,’ she said slowly.
‘I suppose it is.’
Her pulse twitched.
It would have been easy to take his reply at face value, as just another of those glib, offhand remarks people made to keep a conversation running smoothly.
But something had shifted in his voice—or rather left it. The teasing warmth had gone, had been replaced by something cool and dismissive that pricked her skin like the sting of a wasp.
It was her cue to back off—and maybe she would have done so an hour earlier. But this was the first piece of personal information he had ever shared with her.
She cleared her throat. ‘So how old were you?’
Along the back of her seat, she could feel the muscles in his arm tensing.
‘Seven.’ He gazed at her steadily. ‘It was a good school. I had a great education there.’
She knew her face had stiffened into some kind of answering smile—she just hoped it looked more convincing than it felt. Nodding, she said quickly, ‘I’m sure. And learning another language is such an opportunity.’
‘It has its uses.’ He spoke tonelessly. ‘But I wasn’t talking about speaking French. Being away taught me to rely on myself. To trust my own judgement. Great life lessons—and brilliant for business.’
Did he ever think of anything else? Nola wondered. Surely he must have been homesick or lonely? But the expression on his face made it clear that it was definitely time to change the subject.
Glancing down at her menu again, she said quickly, ‘So, what do you recommend?’
‘That depends on what you like to eat.’
Looking up, she saw with relief that the tightness in his face had eased.
‘The fish is great here, and they do fantastic steaks.’ He frowned. ‘I forgot to ask. You do eat meat?’
She nodded.
‘And no allergies?’
His words were innocent enough, but there was a lazy undercurrent in his voice that made the palms of her hands grow damp, and her heart gave a thump as his eyes settled on her face.
‘Apart from to me, I mean...’
Her insides tightened, and a prickling heat spread over her cheeks and throat as she gave him a small, tight, polite smile.