Truth be told, she was intrigued to meet someone who had known Luc’s family. Maybe she could learn something useful, discover why he was so determined to find her father, why he was such an ass. She sat and sipped her coffee, tried to ignore the almost naked man next to her. It was impossible. After a few minutes, he drained his cup and stood up.
“You want some breakfast?” he asked.
She eyed him suspiciously. “You’re offering to make me some?”
“Actually, I cook a mean omelet, and I need to eat.”
“Soak up the alcohol, you mean?”
“Maybe.” He thought for a moment, rubbed a finger down the spot between his eyes. “Definitely.”
“Go ahead then. I want to see this.”
She reached across and poured herself another coffee, then watched as he collected the ingredients from the huge fridge. He’d said last night that he could make coffee, but it was obvious he knew his way around the kitchen.
“So where did you learn to cook?” she asked.
He glanced around from where he was frying bacon, the delicious scent filling the room. “My father believed that cooking was women’s work. Unfortunately, my mother had been brought up in a household that believed cooking was the housekeeper’s work.”
“She was rich?”
“Her family was…quite wealthy. They didn’t approve of my father, and I don’t remember her having any contact with them at all back then. She was a stubborn woman. Anyway, we ate a lot of takeout while I was growing up. If I wanted anything at home, I had to cook it myself.”
Five minutes later, he placed two perfectly cooked, fluffy, golden omelets on the table and pushed one in front of her, before resuming his seat and picking up his fork.
Lia waited a moment, then picked up her own and took a bite. It was delicious. “Wow,” she said. “I can’t even make toast.”
“And what’s your excuse?”
“Well, we weren’t rich but we did have a housekeeper.”
They ate in almost companionable silence. Like a couple. The thought brought her up short. If she wasn’t careful, she would forget that the only reason she was here was because Luc was blackmailing her. For some reason, he was being charming. But why should she believe that the Mr. Nice Guy act was the real Luc any more than the wicked blackmailer? Obviously, he was willing to go to any lengths to get her cooperation—even cooking for her. No doubt, it was a devious plot to lull her into a false sense of security with his fabulous culinary skills, while turning her mind to mush by flaunting his nearly naked body in that tiny white towel.
Not going to happen. She was made of sterner stuff.
She put down her fork slowly, and Luc glanced up from his own food.
“Thank you. I’m full,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question her, just finished his food and pushed back his chair. “I have to go to the office. I’ll be out all day, but I’ll see you this evening for dinner.”
She nodded, letting out a sigh of relief as he left the room.
Chapter Nine
The doorbell rang. It was just after ten. This must be my babysitter for the shopping trip. Obviously, Luc thought she was quite incapable of selecting an appropriate dress herself.
When she opened the door, a woman stood outside, her finger poised to ring again. A smile flickered across her lips, but her eyes remained cool. “You must be Olivia?”
“Yes, but call me Lia, please.”
“I’m Maggie,” the woman said. “Luc asked me to come over. He said you need help shopping.”
Maggie was a very attractive woman, probably in her mid to late forties; it was hard to tell, she was so well groomed, her hair and makeup flawless. Tall—as tall as Lia—and slender in cream capri pants and a sapphire silk shirt, which matched her dark blue eyes. Her blond hair was exquisitely cut in a shoulder-length bob.
She was returning the interest, though the look she sent Lia’s way was not entirely friendly.
Lia realized she was staring. “I need a dress. For a party.”
“So Luc said.”
Lia frowned; definitely not friendly. She so didn’t need this hassle on top of everything else. “If this isn’t convenient for you…”
Maggie shook her head. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking how like your mother you are.”
“You knew my mother?”
“Not well. She didn’t mix with the likes of me in those days.”
“My mother was a bit of a snob.” Lia smiled ruefully.
Maggie cocked her head to one side. “What did Luc tell you about me?”
“Not much. Just that you were a friend of his mother’s when she lived in London.”
Maggie smiled. “That will do for the moment. Come on, let’s shop.”
Lia went and picked up her jacket from the chair in the hall. “I don’t have much money,” she said as she followed Maggie to the elevator.
“Don’t worry. Luc’s sorted that out.”
Lia stopped moving, her shoulders stiffening. “I can’t let him buy my clothes.”
“Why not?”
“Well…”
“Look Lia, from what I understand, you’re doing Luc a favor—”
“No—”
“And from what I gather, the clothes we’re buying won’t be useful when you go back home. So just accept them as a gift and enjoy it.”
The concierge held the door for them as they exited the apartment building. Maggie hovered for a moment outside. “Would you like to get a cab or walk?” she asked Lia.
“Walk.” She was used to being more active, and some physical activity might ease her restlessness. Besides, she was eager to see some of the city. This was a far different place from the seedy area she’d wandered into three weeks earlier looking for The Crazy Frog.
Here, the streets were wide, edged with tall, elegant buildings intersected with formal areas of gardens, giving the impression of vast luxury and affluence. She couldn’t remember much of the city from when she was a child, and suddenly she was filled with excitement just to be here. Why not take advantage of her forced vacation? See some of the sights; Buckingham Palace wasn’t far, then there was the Tower, and the London Eye. She could take one of those open-topped double-decker bus tours just like a real tourist…
Soon the residential area gave way to shops, and their steps slowed as Lia peered into all the different windows. The clothes were gorgeous, but she couldn’t imagine herself living the sort of life where such things mattered. Finally, Maggie came to a halt outside a huge department store. Harrods had been her mother’s favorite shop. Lia had never been, but now she pushed through the revolving doors and stepped inside.