‘Having realised you weren’t ever going to put a ring on her finger?’
‘I never lead any woman to believe that, Tess.’
‘Doesn’t stop them from hoping for it. After all, it’s part of the deal.’
‘What deal?’
‘You know perfectly well what deal. It’s part and parcel of the high-flying world we were both born into. Men go after the most attractive women they can afford; women go after the richest men they can attract.’
Her father and his mother were prime examples of this pattern of behaviour.
‘I don’t buy my women,’ Nick protested.
She flicked him a mocking look. ‘Yes, you do. You buy them with who and what you are. You just never close the deal. They don’t realise at first that you’re only into visiting their bedrooms, not staying there. I bet every one of them thinks she’ll be the one to keep you at her side.’
‘Well, I can’t control hopes but I certainly don’t ever feed them.’
‘Maintaining your brand of integrity?’
‘I have always hated deceit, Tess.’
Which set all her nerves on edge over what she’d been keeping from him. Maybe she should blurt it out right now, throw fatherhood into his lap and watch how he dealt with it. On the other hand, he hadn’t yet laid out his purpose behind being her escort tonight and there had to be one. Tess didn’t believe he’d simply been missing her tart tongue.
The fatherhood issue could wait a bit longer.
She wanted her curiosity satisfied first.
‘Will a plate of fruit and cheese do it for you or do you want something more substantial?’ Nick asked matter-of-factly as he steered her to a vacant padded booth in the coffee shop overlooking the lobby. ‘And what would you like to drink?’
‘Hmmm…a lovely rich creamy Brandy Alexander to drink and a wicked slice of Chocolate Mud cake to eat,’ she rolled out with sinful relish, deciding comfort food could be forgiven tonight since she was feeling distinctly fraught. ‘And I won’t share, so if you’re hungry, too, order something for yourself.’
At his look of surprise at her grossly non-dieting order, she dryly pointed out, ‘You are not with a figure-watching model tonight and I feel like spoiling myself.’
His grin was warm this time. ‘Curves are good.’ His gaze dropped to her cleavage as he saw her seated, causing her wretched skin to flush again. Then to fluster her further, there was definitely a lustful simmer in his eyes when they smiled into hers. ‘I’ll go and order, organise quick service. Be back in a minute.’
She nodded, telling herself she was dressed to attract that kind of male response and Nick had just given it to her. Being the man he was, he probably couldn’t help himself. She should feel happy about it. She wanted him to want her. But not just because her rather full breasts were being flaunted tonight. That put her in the same category as all his other women.
Tess shook her head, hopelessly confused over what she wanted from tonight with Nick. She certainly didn’t want him to see how vulnerable she was to the desires he stirred. It was lucky there were beads sewn over the lace of the skimpy bodice, hiding the fact that her nipples had just become embarrassingly hard and prominent.
Really, it was highly vexing to get so messed up in a sexual sense when she wasn’t getting any answers from him. Plenty of reaction to her but no reasons for his own actions. She took a few deep breaths to cool herself down, resolved to take some initiative in questioning him when he returned, and wished life could be a lot easier to figure out.
Before she could formulate a line of attack, Nick was sliding onto the seat on the other side of their table, positioning himself directly opposite her, lining up a face to face conversation, which he immediately started.
‘Where do you fit into the deal, Tess?’
She looked blankly at him. ‘What deal are you talking about?’
‘The one where men go after the most attractive women they can afford, and women go after the richest men they can attract.’
‘I don’t fit.’ She shrugged. ‘I guess you can’t separate an heiress from the fortune that comes with her. As a marriage prospect, men would inevitably be thinking more about my money than me, and I’d rather not feel they were with me because of it.’
‘Is that why you remain single, Tess? You don’t trust a guy to love you for the person you are?’
She frowned at him. ‘Why are you trying to psychoanalyse me again? You’re not very good at it, Nick. Last time you decided I’d been ripped off and hurt by so many guys I’d become an ice maiden. All because I wasn’t playing your game.’
‘My game?’
‘Where you put out a blast of sexual magnetism and I’m supposed to turn into putty so you can squeeze me however you want.’
He rolled his eyes at her description of his modus operandi with women. ‘I did not try to blast you with sexual magnetism.’
‘No, in all fairness, it probably flows naturally from you. But you were peeved at my resistance to it. Why else would you cast me in ice?’
‘You were also denying your femininity, Tess,’ he pointed out. ‘Always wearing androgynous jeans, shirts, no make-up, hair scraped back in an unflattering style…’
‘I was simply going about my business which does not require me to impress anyone with my looks. As a casting agent, it’s the looks of my clients that I peddle. Better that I don’t distract from them.’
‘Okay, so I read you wrong.’ His mouth twitched into that sexy moue again. ‘And you proved me wrong. It’s been a long time now since I attached ice to your sexuality.’
‘That was only a year ago,’ she reminded him, the date being extremely pertinent to her, considering she still had to tell him about Zack.
‘I know you better now,’ he pressed on.
‘Intimately better,’ she pushed, recklessly intent on forcing him to remember what she couldn’t forget. Especially when the result of their intimacy had to be revealed.
‘Any objection to us getting that close again, Tess?’
It came out of nowhere.
No foreplay.
No seductive moves suggesting it might be on offer.
Just laying sex with him on the table for her to pick up or not as she pleased.
It took Tess’s breath away, rendering her totally speechless. Not that her shocked mind was in any kind of working order to formulate thoughts which could be put into words. In fact, its emptiness seemed to be ringing with the echo of her thumping heart.