Page 18 of Highest Bid

She pushed aside inner doubts and apprehension, and instead arched a brow. “What about the Garden Café? The fish and chips there are one of the most popular items on the menu.”

“You’re right.” He took a sip of his light beer. “I might have to order it tonight just to compare.”

“So you’ve never eaten the fish and chips at your own restaurant?”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t exactly say the restaurant is mine—or my brothers’, for that matter. I’m thinking Ned might claim ownership.”

She smiled. “Yeah, you’re probably right. He’s rather protective of his menu.”

Galan leaned forward, all serious. “Will you come with me to dinner?”

Her foolhardy heart leapt. “Tonight?”

How would she even taste the food knowing what carnal activities he’d planned for her later in the evening?

“It’s your day off. Why not?”

“Where do I start?” She lifted her hand, and checked off each of her fingers. “There are your commitment issues to consider. There is also your employees seeing us together.” Except the gossip would have already spread like wildfire; her workmates would know about the auction and her being with Galan. They were still probably reeling that Miss Nobody had attracted Galan’s attention. They were probably reeling just as hard that she wanted to be with a renowned player. She cleared her throat. “Not to mention your brothers—”

He shook his head. “I really don’t care what other people think. This is my life, not theirs. As for my brothers...” He leaned close. “I know they were in on this thing with you being in the auction. Aiden even handed me a bidding paddle.”

She couldn’t stop a snort of loud and undignified laughter, and the barwoman jerked her attention their way. Except this time the middle-aged lady wasn’t staring at Galan. Layla lifted a hand and sent a reassuring wave, even as she inwardly grinned at Liam and Aiden’s matchmaking. They’d helped her devise the perfect way to get his attention.

“It’s too late for that,” Galan said with a grin toward the barwoman. “She already thinks you’re a crazy lady for sitting next to a man who obviously wants to eat you for dessert.”

Layla turned back to him, her insides melting, as heat burned through her veins. “Then she must wish she was crazy just like me.” She lifted her chin. “Anyway, it was just a little snort.”

“A little snort?” It was his turn to laugh, and Layla couldn’t help but laugh right along. He reached for her hand. “Don’t worry, firecracker, your snort is...endearing.”

She looked at his hand, then lifted her eyes to get lost in his brilliant gaze that had softened around the edges. “I can’t say anyone’s ever said that to me before.”

“Then I’m privileged to be the first,” he said softly.

The drive back to Sydney was done in silence, with the SUV’s stereo playing mellow songs in the background. It was nice to be with someone who didn’t fill in every quiet moment with aimless chatter. If only she wasn’t so busy thinking about Galan’s promised retribution later that night.

She looked out the side window to hide the flush creeping over her face as yet another wave of wanton heat pulsed within. She’d gone from a dry spell straight into torrential desire.

She smoothed a hand down her shirt and expelled a strained breath. She could easily have foregone dinner and instead stepped straight into Galan’s arms.

*

Layla moved back from her bathroom mirror to evaluate her image. Her one and only little black dress, with its lacy sleeves and hem, was sexy but classy, her minimalist makeup offset by her ruby lips and messy upswept hair.

She ran a hand along her hair. It was rather nice not to be the usual Plain Jane Layla with a tight bun and glasses. She’d adopted that look right after her formal and had happily kept the mask in place until the day she’d been interviewed by Galan. Her mask had threatened to slip and it’d been reflex and old habits as much as self-preservation that had made her even more determined to keep it on.

She grimaced. It must have been the biggest shock for Galan to see her half-bared on stage, strutting her stuff. But desperate times had called for desperate measures.

She slipped on the stilettos she’d worn on stage, the same shoes Galan had asked her to wear last night. The added height gave her much-needed confidence.

She was strong and invincible. She wouldn’t for one moment imagine that Galan expected to fulfill his every fantasy with her after dinner tonight, before walking away for good.

A knock sounded on her front door, and her heart immediately fluttered. She’d needed this time alone to prepare herself for the full, charismatic force that was Galan. Exiting the bathroom, she scooped up her handbag before she opened the door to her “date.”

Her mouth dried. In black dress pants and a red shirt that almost exactly matched her lipstick, Galan was gorgeous.

His eyes warmed as he let out a low whistle. “Wow. You are seriously hot, firecracker.”

“I tried my best to complement you, stud.”

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