Page 54 of Never Too Late
‘French men are supposed to be romantic, aren’t they, and I was trying to woo you so… I had a reputation to uphold.’
‘Woo me?’ I sputtered out a laugh.
‘Yes. Is that funny?’ Laughter lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there when I knew him before crinkled as the smile spread.
‘It is.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. Probably because it feels like I’ve drunk my body weight in champagne and also because it makes me feel like a fourteenth-century maiden. Although,’ I tapped my fingers against my cheek, casting my mind back over the fashion history degree I’d studied for, ‘they did have some fabulous clothing.’
‘I could see you in one of those pointy princess hats with the veil thing.’ He made the shapes with his hands as he spoke.
‘Yeah, I reckon I could have rocked that look.’
‘You rocked any and every look.’ Our eyes met and… did he lean towards me or I towards him?
‘Oh, no.’ I wagged my finger as I pulled back. ‘No, no, no. Nopedy nope.’
‘Nopedy nope?’ The laughter lines deepened.
‘I’m not falling for you a second time.’
His smile now was sad. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to. I know I had my chance and messed that up.’
‘So why did you lean in like that, just then?’
‘I didn’t. I already got punched once this evening. I’m not drunk enough to ask for another! Your chair was tipping. I leant forward to steady it but you righted yourself before further emergency measures were required.’
‘Oh. Oh, right. Good.’ I cleared my throat. ‘Good to be clear on these things.’
‘Absolutely,’ he replied, smile still firmly in place. ‘Although – and I apologise if this is inappropriate or out of place – it’s not always easy to keep up these days.’
‘Agreed.’ I gave a nod of agreement, just to be absolutely clear.
‘I had forgotten how cute you are when you get drunk.’
‘I was cute when I wasn’t drunk.’
‘You were. You are. Incredibly.’
‘Also, I am not drunk,’ I stated. Drunkenly.
‘No. Of course not. My apologies.’ He did a fake bow from his sitting position before hooking my gaze with those mesmerising navy-blue eyes.
Bugger.
22
‘Oh, wow.’ Sasha’s cup of coffee was frozen halfway to her lips as I emerged from the bedroom like a bear emerging from the depths of hibernation, all squinty-eyed and matted hair. Was the world always this bright? Was there a dial somewhere I could use to turn it down just a teeny bit?
‘Hi.’ My voice sounded like I’d gargled with rocks.
Sash was still staring at me. ‘Someone had a good night! I’ll have to have words with Ashok next time I see him, leading you astray like this.’ There was laughter in her voice. ‘Would you like a coffee?’
I put up a thumb in grateful acceptance and skated over the comment about Ashok leading me astray. Right now, I didn’t have the energy or brain power to explain that I’d run into my old friend, Gabby, not to mention the man I’d once been certain I’d marry and found him, much to my chagrin, just as interesting and complex as before. Also, he’d aged really,reallywell. Git.
‘How was your evening?’ I croaked out.
