Lex waved her chopsticks in the air. ‘You’re going back to the hotel to work? It’s after eleven.’
He pushed his chair back and stretched out his legs. He linked his hands across his flat stomach and rolled his head around. ‘Says the woman who was working up until ten minutes ago.’
‘Mmm, that’s because I have an assignment due.’ She opened the lid to the artichoke dish and stared down. ‘I’ve never eaten artichokes before.’
‘They are delicious,’ Cole assured her and watched as she took a cautious bite. She’d surprised him tonight, in so many ways. She’d been so up and honest about needing work, so unembarrassed about telling him that she needed to drive to earn money. He admired her put-it-out-there attitude. She didn’t seem to care what he, or anyone else, thought about her.
When he’d told her that he didn’t need her to drive him, he hadn’t given a thought to how his arbitrary decision might affect her. He did what he liked, what suited him, and hadn’t given her needs a second thought. He felt ashamed of himself, annoyed by his self-serving attitude.
He had to do better, be better. Think more about people and how his actions affected them.
Though maybe a part of him not wanting Lex to drive him was because he knew that in the confines of a car, surrounded by her smell, hearing her rich voice, he’d be constantly distracted by what he wanted to do to her in bed—or on a desk, or up against a wall. He didn’t like being distracted or frustrated—who did? He’d thought it better to put her, and his fantasies, out of sight and mind.
Hah! No chance of that now. ‘What are you studying?’ he asked.
‘Psychology—specifically forensic psychology,’ she told him, her attention on her food. She’d already demolished half of the food and didn’t look like she was going to stop any time soon. He didn’t mind. All that waited for him was spreadsheets and emails, and boring ones at that. He’d much rather sit in a stationary car in the rain with Lex than be alone in his hotel room.
And that was strange because, after an evening spent in a busy restaurant, even if he did eat with someone he knew well, he normally couldn’t wait for the quiet of his hotel room.
‘Why psychology?’ he asked, intrigued by her. It was obvious that she was intelligent, but she worked as a driver and she needed flexible work hours. Where were her parents, and why was she raising her sisters? Was that why she hadn’t finished her degree years ago?
Lex inspected the perfectly round medallion of veal. She grimaced and raised her eyes to look at him. ‘Veal is baby cow, right?’
He smiled at her squeamishness. ‘Think of it as coming in a polystyrene tray wrapped in plastic,’ he told her. ‘And, trust me, you want to taste that, it’s the best dish on the menu.’
‘Good enough for me.’ Without hesitation, Lex popped the veal into her mouth. She chewed, tipped her head to the side and incredulity crossed her face. He wondered if the same look of wonder and contentment would cross her face when she orgasmed. He thought it would, but at double the intensity. And he was desperate to see her do exactly that.
‘So, psychology?’ he prompted, dragging his thoughts off his vivid imaginings of Lex’s long, pale body, her hair bright against the white sheets of his bed. He felt his trousers getting smaller and counted to ten. Then to twenty.
He. Paid. Her. Salary.
Nope, the sexy image wouldn’t be dispelled.
Holy Batman.
‘Oh...right.’ She stared out of the window again, as if she was trying to find the right words. ‘Initially, I studied it because I wanted to try to work out why certain people in my life acted the way they acted, did what they did. Then I realised it would take me a lifetime to understand if there was any sense to be made, so I switched to forensic because the criminal mind fascinates me.’
‘So, no criminals in your family?’ he asked, joking.
‘Not that I know of,’ Lex replied. ‘Criminally stupid, sure. Actual miscreants? I don’t think so.’ She looked down at her supper and blew out her cheeks. ‘I am so full.’
She only had the orange-chocolate-chilli tart left to eat. And, if she didn’t, he would. It was the perfect end to the meal. ‘You’ve got to try it,’ he told her. ‘It’s stunning.’
She looked at him, placed her hand on her stomach and popped the bite-sized confection into her mouth. She chewed, looked up at the ceiling and chewed some more, looking undecided and underwhelmed as she did so. Oh, come on! How could she not like it? It was delicious.
‘Well?’ he demanded when she swallowed and put her chopsticks into the box and closed the lid. She took the handkerchief he pulled from the inside pocket of his jacket and delicately wiped her mouth, then her fingers, on the cool cotton.
‘Not terrible,’ she told him, and it took him a few beats for him to realise that her tongue was firmly in her cheek and she was teasing him.
He put his hand on the back of her neck and shook her very gently. He couldn’t keep his lips from inching upwards into a smile. ‘That’s probably the best dessert you’ve ever eaten.’
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realised that he sounded as if he was putting her down, highlighting the financial differences between them. He hadn’t meant to. It had been one of the best meals of his life too.
‘Absolutely,’ Lex replied, shrugging. ‘There’s no question that it’s the best meal I’ve ever eaten. Thank you for arranging that for me.’
He’d lost track of all the exceptional meals he’d eaten in his life, but watching Lex eat bits and pieces from Patrick Snell’s tasting menu from a box in a car in Cape Town was his best food experience this decade. Possibly ever.
Damn it. He was in a world of trouble here. And his honest, direct driver had put him there.