‘Nothing,’ she said lightly, picking up the menu. ‘Let’s order. I’m starving. Chefs in places like these take for ever in getting food to the table.’
Case nodded, picking up his menu, casting his eyes over the list of cuisine his restaurant offered. She may have guessed he brought all his women here, but not why. And she wouldn’t be able to fault the service. Everyone knew who he was…and no one disappointed the boss.
He gripped the menu, the words blurring. He was bursting to tell her.
Case took a gulp of the red wine. For the first time since Celia he wanted to tell a woman all about himself, all his assets, all his achievements, including making this struggling enterprise one of the top five restaurants in Melbourne.
He wanted to impress Tahlia, see her awe, hear her praise, see a warmth in those sea-green eyes that was just for him. ‘You do want kids, though?’
Tahlia glanced up, her eyes wide. ‘Ye-es, at a later stage I would like to have a couple of children,’ she said carefully. ‘But I wouldn’t bring them into a relationship that wasn’t absolutely totally stable and loving.’
‘Me neither.’ He lifted his arm and a waiter arrived at the table at the ready. ‘I’d like the quail entrée, Piper’s Peppered Steak with the Chef’s Best Salad and the Raspberry and Apple Pie with cream.’
The waiter turned to her.
‘Quail,’ she said, nodding to Case, her eyes bright. ‘The chicken breast with garden salad and a chocolate cheesecake.’
‘Is your mother local?’ he asked, watching her take a sip of the red wine, her lips almost as dark, looking as rich and sweet as cherries, just begging to be tasted.
‘Ye-es,’ she said slowly, her gaze on him. ‘My mother took a job here just after I first moved to Melbourne to work with WWW Designs. I don’t blame her for coming too. I wouldn’t want to be all alone and she is all alone and I understand that I’m all she has and all—’
Case heard the flood of sweet words from her mouth, saw the shine in her eyes as she dropped her gaze to the setting in front of her, and wanted her. Desperately, totally wanted her…never to be alone.
He swallowed hard. ‘God, you’re beautiful.’
Tahlia glanced up at him, a soft flush on her cheeks. ‘You don’t have to resort to flattery to get me to talk,’ she said casually. ‘Shoe size? Seven and a half. How I take my coffee? Black with no sugar. Where I go on holiday? Anywhere that has a seminar that can help my career. So what do you want to know?’
Case shook his head. ‘Can’t a guy make an honest comment about his date’s extraordinary beauty without it being taken as a means to an end?’
She shook her head. ‘No.’
A waiter moved between them brandishing their entrées, the sweet scent of the freshly roasted delicacy wafting around them.
‘You seem dedicated to work.’ Case stripped the small quail of its meat, the prized morsels melt-in-the-mouth soft. ‘Your file is impressive. You’ve done a lot in a few short years.’ He glanced at her, trying to make her out.
She placed her hands in front of her. ‘So you finally read my file.’
Finally, for the twentieth time. She was twenty-six years old and had worked diligently, pursuing her career, yet still seemed so young and innocent in so many ways. ‘You mustn’t have had time for much of a personal life.’
Tahlia put down her fork, staring at him. ‘No, not much of one, but I’ve had my fair share of boyfriends.…if that’s what you’re asking.’
Case shook his head. ‘You are amazingly frank, Miss Moran.’
‘You are incredibly nosey, Mr Darrington. Anyone would think you have an ulterior motive.’
‘I do.’
‘Oh?’
‘I’m seriously interested in all my employees, but I don’t usually take them out for dinner.’
‘And why am I so different?’ she asked softly, watching him with narrowed eyes.
‘Because you fascinate me.’
She stared at her plate. ‘I—’
He’d scared her away. He could see the hesitation in her eyes, hear it in her voice, feel it in every aching muscle in his body.
‘Not that I don’t usually bend my principles for a pretty woman,’ he blurted. ‘Or go after something I want…’ Dammit, he was digging himself deeper.
She glanced up at him, a soft gleam in her eyes and a knowing smile just touching her lips. ‘I know.’
Case leant back in his seat, watching her. Whatever she thought she knew, it made her happier and more relaxed. Who was he to argue?
Whatever she was thinking had put a smile on her face that glowed with a vibrancy that tantalised him.
It couldn’t be bad.
Chapter Fourteen
Emma’s rule number two: make love, not war.
TAHLIA chewed on her bottom lip, walking slowly to her front door, every footfall thundering through a body too alert, too aware of Case so close behind her, the warmth of his suit jacket around her shoulders smothering her with his spicy cologne mixed all too enticingly with pure male scent.
Their third date, in as many days, had been wonderful, the food almost as incredible as the company.
It wasn’t that she wanted to date him, but she found that at work she was so busy with finding files for Case, setting up interviews and doing her own job that she hardly had time to do anything more than admire his dedication to the employees. And he did keep asking her out so she had the opportunity to find out more about him.
Who was she to decline?
At least the plan was working. She was getting to know Case, although she was discovering more about his pets, his parents, his hobbies and his childhood than the details of his career.
Now he was being incredibly tortuous by doing the chivalrous escort-the-girl-to-the-door thing that drove her mind mad with the should-she or shouldn’t-she invitations for coffee, inclinations to kiss him, and intense desire to do more than show him the door after the coffee and kiss.
‘Thank you for another wonderful evening,’ she offered tightly, opening her bag and scrabbling for her keys, pushing the silly notions from her mind.
He was a professional and her boss. Much as she wanted him to be the office playboy, after spending the last few days with him she had serious doubts. He was simply wonderful.
‘My pleasure, Tahlia,’ he said, her name a mere whisper on his breath.
She shivered, plucked out her keys and fought the jumble for the right one. ‘It was great. The mousse was so rich and sweet and smooth—’ She glanced up at him—like his voice, like his jaw, like his lips…
‘It was,’ he said, inching even closer. ‘Can I help?’
She watched as he took the keys from her hand and poked the one she’d labelled ‘front’ in the lock and turned, pushing the door wide.
‘Thanks.’ Tahlia swept his jacket off her shoulders, the moment when he’d wrapped her in it scored in her memory, his body heat still lingering around her, her heart hammering against her ribs.
She tried to keep that comment he’d made that first night she’d gone out with him, that she was just another date, foremost in her mind, but the rest of the week pressed in on her, smothering her senses with a kindness and a warmth a shallow Romeo just shouldn’t have.