Page 125 of Love Among the Ruins
“It would be a problem, no?”
“Why would it?” It was his company, well, hisfather’scompany, but he could deal with it.
The question was, could Eleni?
She’d already told him that the women she worked with, and Linus, weren’t too fond of her. “Maybe for you it might be difficult,” he said, softly. “I would hate for people to talk about you behind your back.”
She laughed. “But this isn’t real, Dominic. People can say what they want.”
It wasn’t real, and he had to accept the truth. “People won’t ask such in-depth questions. We shouldn’t stress about this too much.” His gaze swept over her. She had long, long legs. He couldn’t help but notice them in the shorts she had on, and that figure hugging T-shirt that outlined her body so clearly. What was she trying to do to him?
Don’t go there.
He shook his head and forced his gaze to fixate on the pool behind her. “Most of the people you will meet will be more interested in themselves than you or me, Eleni.”
She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully.
“Is something worrying you about this?” Because he didn’t want her still to be worrying.
“Not this.” Once again she waved her hand between them. Did that mean anything? She seemed to be at ease, with only the two of them sitting and talking the way they were.
He certainly was.
He could sit here all night, could happily spend the weekend with her, sitting by the pool and talking, just the two of them.
“We have to know things about each other. What do you know about me?” she asked.
He sat up, swirled the glass of whiskey and contemplated. “Your favorite color is pale yellow, I’m guessing, based on the number of times I’ve seen you wear it.”
Her mouth fell open.
“And dolmadakia is your favorite Greek dish, one of them, I think.”
“You’re observant, or nosy.”
“You like tequila, and you dance without inhibition.” He felt a victory coming on, given by the shocked expression on her face.
“You are a ladies’ man, aren’t you?” she threw back. “A charmer, paying attention and listening.”
That wasn’t the response he’d hoped for. “No.”
She stared at him as if he were a puzzle she couldn’t decipher. “You know so much about me.”
“I’ve shared more car rides with you than any other employee. I’ve walked past Miranda’s desk to get to my office—and the two of you don’t always talk in whispers.”
“I can’t work out if you’re very perceptive or if you have very big ears.”
He grinned. “Go on, hit me with it. What do you know about me?” He was eager to find out. She stared at the table, scratching her arm, bringing his attention to her body, making it hard for him to look away.
“That you like whiskey, and … it’s common knowledge that you hate social events, and people …”
He didn’t disagree. “Is that all?”
“And …” She seemed to be struggling.
“You can’t think of anything.” He was disappointed.
“You’re bossy, and demanding, and moody. You’re grumpy and you hate people and idle chatter. But you’ve always been so nice to me.”
