Page 24 of All I Want for Christmas

‘Dusty?’

‘Yes. Let’s be honest, it’s not exactly the natural habitat for a history of art academic. I deal with the dead, I guess. Dead artists. Centuries-old paintings. It’s about as different as you can get.’ Every word was a rebuff. She could hear it and yet she couldn’t stop. Something in him made her turn away. ‘...Unless the beautiful people living in your glossy high-rises will want some old masters to hang on their walls? Then I could be their art advisor, I guess.’

It was only a throwaway comment, but Erik’s expression went from wary to intensely focused. ‘There’s probably good money in that. I know a lot of rich people who are just looking for ways to spend their money. Someone like you could make a killing.’

‘Someone like me?’

‘Yeah – I imagine academia really doesn’t pay so well?’

She swallowed. ‘I guess compared to building hotels, no.’

Just then the waiter came over, and she looked away with relief. A slight edge had crept into the conversation and it was her fault, she knew. He was trying to flirt and she was blocking him at every turn. ‘Mr Rasmussen, are you ready for me to take your orders?’

‘Thank you, Oscar. We’ll have the chateaubriand and a bottle of the Puligny Montrachet.’

‘Very good, sir,’ the waiter said, snapping the menus shut and slipping away again.

‘Oh, but—’ Darcy had wanted to order the truffle pasta. She watched in disbelief as the waiter retreated without even glancing over at her.

‘You’re going tolovethe filet,’ Erik said with certainty as he sat back in his chair. ‘I’ve never once come here and been unhappy with the choice.’ She looked at him, seeing how pleased he was with himself at this show of power. How did he know she even liked chateaubriand, or that she wasn’t a vegetarian? He had never asked.

She swallowed back her irritation. ‘Is that so? You must come here a lot, then.’

‘It’s one of my favourites, actually. There’s always a good atmosphere and I live just around the corner, so...’

He shot her a loaded look again. If he had all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, she also knew this was their second date – drinks last night; dinner tonight – and that expectations were rising...She knew when the meal came out, his knee would begin to brush against hers under the table and he would start to lean in on his elbows while they talked, touching her hand with increasing regularity. She was going to have to have made a choice by the time pudding came out.

She watched him as he talked, trying to talk herself into it. He used his hands a lot, made plenty of eye contact and had stories for any turn of conversation. He was not quite as funny as he thought he was, nor as clever, but he was engaging.

Engaging enough for one night.

She could do this, couldn’t she?

‘So, tell me about the rogue who broke your heart,’ he said, coming in again with an intense look. She sensed it was part of the seduction.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You mentioned him in passing last night when I asked about your last relationship. You said he cheated on you?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘He didnotbreak my heart.’

‘Really? But you said it was your first date in weeks, since the breakup.’

‘Not because I was heartbroken, though. I was just done with being lied to again. I haven’t got the time, nor the energy for those games. It’s so...tedious.’

‘So it’s happened before?’

‘I date men. Of course it’s happened before.’

‘Ouch.’ He winced at the sarcasm, but she saw a look of satisfaction in his eyes. ‘Well, then I apologize on behalf of my brethren – but I hope you know we’re not all like that.’

‘It honestly doesn’t matter either way,’ she shrugged. ‘Whoever I date can see whoever else they want. I’m not looking for a relationship right now.’

His eyebrows raised. ‘You’re not looking to fall in love?’

‘I don’t have time.’

‘Oh, come. Everyone has time for love,’ he argued. ‘It’s what makes life worth living.’

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