All the same, I didn’t want to bore him to tears, so I gave him the short version. “I went to the University of Toronto for undergrad. I wanted to see a new place, meet new people.”
“Toronto? For a particular academic program?”
“No. I didn’t know what career I wanted.” Which had pissed off my parents no end. They were career driven and so was my older sister. But I’d had no outstanding talent and hadn’t felt really drawn to any subject in school, nor to a particular line of work. Trying to show myself in the best light, I said, “I’m creative but practical, too, and I’m very social.”
“An excellent combination. So, how did you decide on your career?”
“Through experimentation.” I sipped wine. “I took different courses, worked at part-time and summer jobs, figured out what I liked and what I was good at.”
He nodded. “An intelligent approach.”
It had felt more like muddling around, and my parents had complained about my lack of focus. They’d urged me in the direction of law, my mother’s field. Not medical research, my dad’s specialty, because I didn’t have a scientific brain.
“And how did you end up in Montreal?” Pritam leaned toward me, his sleeve brushing my bare arm on the armrest.
I tried to focus on the question rather than on the way I thrilled to his touch. “I wanted to be fluently bilingual, so after two years in Toronto I went to study in Montreal, at McGill. I loved Montreal. After I graduated, I worked in several hotels, and was assistant to the director of PR at Le Cachet. Then he moved to New York. I got his job, and I love it.”
“What do you love about it?” His expression was attentive.
How to put it into words? I wasn’t big on analyzing feelings, I just experienced them. Like, when I walked toward the front doors of Le Cachet, my step was bouncy and I felt like singing. It would sound silly to say that though. “It makes good use of all my skills. The other staff are great to work with, and I love the hotel itself. I’m challenged, alive; each day is different.”
As I spoke, Pritam had begun to smile. Now he rested his hand on my forearm, making me tingle again. “You’ve found your niche. It feels wonderful when that happens, n’est-ce pas?”
“Yes, you’re right, that’s exactly it.” If he could relate to the feeling, he must consider the entertainment industry to be his niche. Again, I was about to ask him what he did, but he was going on, a quizzical expression on his face.
“Your niche in your career, oui. Now, what about your personal life? You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman who has chosen to be single.”
Chosen? No, I sure hadn’t chosen being single.
I must have frowned, because he said, “Wait, I’m making an assumption. You’re not single?”
“Yes, of course I am. I wouldn’t be—” Flirting with him.
And then something occurred to me. The question I should have asked before I let him flirt with me. “Are you single?”
“Mais oui.” His brows drew together. “If I was married, I’d never behave this way with you. How could you think that?”
“Because I don’t know you. You could be one of those men who takes off his wedding band the moment he’s away from his wife.”
He frowned. “You can’t know, of course. But I give you my word. When I marry, fidelity will be part of the deal.” His dark eyes looked sincere, and in that moment exactly like Nav’s. It was so disconcerting.
Then he gave a small, mischievous smile. “And no, as you say, you don’t know me. I hope to remedy that in the hours of this trip, Kat.”
Kat. I stiffened. It was the first time he’d spoken my name. My heart raced. It seemed to me, he’d said Kat exactly the way Nav did. With a Brit accent, not a Parisian one.
One syllable. I stared at him. Maybe I’d been mistaken. How much could I read into one syllable? “Say my name again. All of it. Kat Fallon.”
Muscles tightened beside his eyes; amusement flickered in their depth.
I realized I was holding my breath.
“Katherine Fallon,” he said, giving it a Parisian flair.
I puffed out breath, shook my head, glared at him. “Uh-uh. In English. Kat Fallon.”
A grin started on his face. Widened. Speaking in Nav’s posh English accent, he said, “Kat Fallon, it took you long enough.”
Oh! I was right. “Nav! Oh, my God! What are you doing? What’s going on? Where did you get those gorgeous clothes and the expensive jewelry?”
I put my hands to my cheeks, laughing, shaking my head in amazement. “What crazy game are you playing? I can’t believe you took me in. And here I said you were older, by years. It’s your face; it looks so much leaner without all the hair. Why did—”
“Kat,” he broke in.
His tone was so serious, I lowered my hands and stared at him. At that totally intriguing face that was his, yet not his. My friend Nav’s, yet also the sexy stranger Pritam’s. “Yes?”
“You meet fascinating people on a train,” he said in English. “A train’s a special world. Normal rules don’t apply.”
The words were my own. And now, the truth really sank in. He’d deceived me. Stiffly, I said, “So you decided to play a trick on me?”
His lips twisted in a small, wry smile.
Even though I was growing increasingly pissed off, I had to marvel at the sensual, expressive mouth he’d been hiding behind the mustache and beard.
“A game,” he said. “I knew you’d call me on it eventually.”
Remembering how I’d responded to his flirting, the way I’d become aroused, I flushed. “Not a very kind game. You made a fool of me.” Nav would never let me live this down. If he’d finally listened to my advice about cleaning up his appearance, he ought to have been honest with me. Instead, he’d tricked me, and even borrowed fancy jewelry to do it.
Annoyance was rapidly turning to anger.
He shook his head. “No, that wasn’t my intent, Kat. I only—”
“You jerk, Nav! What the hell were you thinking?”
He gazed steadily into my eyes. “That you might enjoy Pritam’s company on the train trip to Toronto. And I knew Pritam would enjoy yours.”
Confused, I shook my head. “I don’t understand.” Maybe he hadn’t meant it as a nasty joke. After all, Nav had never, in two years, done anything mean to me.
“Nav and Kat are good friends, and that friendship is important to them. Right?”
“Of course.” Why was he speaking in that one-step-removed fashion?
“But there’s an attraction between them, right?”
Did he have to talk about it? I tried to avoid thinking about that attraction. “Okay, sometimes,” I admitted. “But the friendship is more important.” For me, our friendship was unique and wonderful.
“Kat doesn’t want to risk losing that friendship, and Nav doesn’t want to risk losing her.”
I nodded, glad that he, too, valued what we had together. But I still didn’t understand what he was up to with this game of his.
“But Pritam’s a stranger,” he said. “A stranger she met on a train. If he and Kat flirt, if they—” he waved a hand in one of Pritam’s suggestive continental gestures—“what does that have to do with what she and Nav have together?”
“But