He was quiet for a moment, contemplative in a way that made her wonder what he wasn’t saying.
“I suppose it’s addictive.” There was more to it. She heard thoughts he wasn’t offering, but didn’t push him.
“Well, I guess you’re very good at it.”
“Yes.” There was no hubris in his admission. She liked his directness. She also liked his honesty. Nothing irked Skye more than false modesty.
She finished her coffee, wondering at the tripping sensation in her chest. “Anyway,” she tilted her lips in a smile. “I should get back to it.”
“Why are you here?”
Her eyes widened. “I—work here.”
“I mean, in Europe. What brought you to France?”
“Ah.” She stood, wiping her hands on the front of her shorts, the gesture drawing his attention to her thighs. Heat sparked in her bloodstream. “Isn’t a working holiday in Europe a right of passage?”
“I don’t know. Is it?”
Another question. He was so good at that. “Apparently.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Truth be told, I’m here against my will.”
“Kidnapped?” He prompted teasingly.
She returned the smile. “It’s nothing sinister. My mother and stepfather insisted I travel a bit before—,”
“Before?”
“Oh, it’s a pipedream, really.”
“What is?”
She gnawed on her lower lip. What was the harm in telling him? Never mind that she’d held her ambitions and wishes close to her chest for as long as she could remember. “I want to buy a property back home. My mother and stepfather have offered to go guarantor on my mortgage, but in exchange, they asked me to spend a year overseas. To be sure it’s what I really want.”
“They don’t think your desire is genuine?”
She toyed with her lips. “No. They think I’m clinging onto the past.” She shrugged. “It’s hard to explain.”
“What kind of property is it?”
“A dairy farm.” She thought of her father, of the property she’d grown up on, that they’d sold after he died, and her heart clutched. “The thing is—,”
She paused, uncertain.
“Yes?”
What was it about this man that made her want to open up? “Well, I imagine you couldn’t possibly understand, but the problem is financial.”
He nodded sympathetically. “The property you wish to buy is expensive.”
“Yes.” She tilted her head to the side. “I have some savings for the deposit, but not quite enough. I’m about fifty grand short,” she shrugged.
“And your parents can’t lend you the money?”
“They could. They’re wealthy. I mean, not necessarily de Garmeaux wealthy,” she responded archly.
He didn’t respond. Skye refocused her train of thought. “But I would love this to be something I do on my own. At least, as much as possible.”
He contemplated that quietly for a few moments. “And how long have you been in Europe?”