Pleased that his confidence in walking with the aids was definitely improving, Hal relaxed. His spirits rose even more when he saw that it was his beautiful Titian-haired companion who was drawing most of the attentive glances that came their way—he certainly wasn’t above feeling some typically masculine pride at having an attractive companion.
The interest in Kit had started with the charming French maître d’, who had all but gone into Gallic ecstasy at the sight of her rippling burnished hair. She wore it loose at Hal’s request, because he’d wanted to see it unbound again. And it hadn’t been hard to detect the curious minds of the other diners avidly whirring at their entrance into the restaurant. They must be wondering about their relationship, putting two and two together and undoubtedly making five...
But whatever people were imagining about his association with Kit Hal couldn’t deny that his idea of making their relationship more intimate had been growing stronger the more time they spent together, and he longed to make it a reality.
‘Can I tempt you with some wine?’ he asked as Kit’s extraordinary blue eyes gravely studied her copy of the leather-bound menu.
‘Wine?’ She blinked up at him in astonishment. ‘I’m driving. Did you forget?’
Unbelievably, he had. He was so lost in his contemplation of her captivating features that it seemed he had forgotten how to think straight. Embarrassed heat pulsed through his bloodstream and he knew it must have invaded his face. The atypical reaction made him feel like an inexperienced schoolboy instead of a thirty-two-year-old man who had always been supremely confident around women... It was hardly a feeling he welcomed.
‘I confess I did. It’s a shame. They have some incredible wine here.’ Lifting his own copy of the menu, he attempted to peruse it.
Taking him by surprise, Kit leaned across and curled her elegantly slim hand round his.
‘It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have a glass if you want one. Although I’d advise you not to overdo it since you’re taking medication at the moment.’
Hal hardly registered her words because the touch of her skin against his was like receiving an electric shock that left him reeling. Now he didn’t just like her touch, he realised...he had begun avidly to crave it. But as his heartbeat slowly started to return to its normal rhythm he couldn’t deny that she’d pricked his pride by reminding him of his current despised condition.
‘I might have known my personal guardian angel would remind me of that fact. How fortunate that you always seem to be here when I need you, Kit.’
She instantly withdrew her hand. He might have slapped her face.
‘That’s what you’re paying me for, isn’t it...? To be a help to you while you recuperate?’ She made a show of being interested in the menu again but her gaze returned almost immediately to examine him. ‘If you don’t like the way I’m doing my job perhaps you’d be happier with someone else?’
‘Don’t do this. Not here.’ Lowering his voice, Hal glanced briefly across the packed restaurant. Then, leaning towards her with a frown, he said, ‘It might be interpreted that we’re having a personal relationship and it’s not going very well. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression and for a story to find its way into the tabloids so they can belittle me like they usually do.’
Her alabaster complexion flushed cerise and he realised he could have chosen his words a lot more carefully.
‘What do you mean by the wrong impression? I’m nobody,’ Kit demanded softly. ‘It’s not as if I’m your wife or girlfriend. Who cares what anyone else thinks?’
‘I do.’ He swallowed hard. It was impossible to tear his gaze away because he was mortified to think that he’d insulted her...hurt her, even. If he had, then he had a profound desire to make things right again. ‘And I didn’t mean to imply that it bothers me if people think our relationship is personal. Did you think it would? You sell yourself short if you do. You’re a very beautiful woman, Kit, and it wouldn’t be beyond anyone’s understanding if I was attracted to you.’
‘Now it’s my turn to ask you not to do this. I’d prefer it if we both remembered why I’m here and didn’t lose sight of that in some pointless, ridiculous fantasy.’
Self-consciously she’d lowered her voice, but the pink flush on her cheeks rendered her so irresistibly pretty that Hal didn’t think twice about reaching out his hand to gently stroke his fingertips across her cheek.
Kit bit down on her lip as though pained. ‘Don’t. The waiter’s coming towards us and we haven’t even discussed what we’re going to eat yet.’
‘I heartily recommend the herb-crusted lamb. Trust me—what they do with it is close to orgasmic.’ Grinning, Hal kissed his fingers with a deliberately theatrical flourish.
Kit had just about recovered her composure in time, he saw, as the waiter appeared to ask smilingly if they’d made their selection. Giving Hal the barest warning glance, she unhesitatingly went for the lamb. Despite the warning, he couldn’t resist giving her a teasing wink of acknowledgment that she’d taken him at his word and succumbed to his enthusiastic recommendation without a murmur. He took it as a good sign that she trusted him.
‘Well, well, well! I see the walking wounded has returned to the land of the living, looking as disgustingly handsome and fit as ever...despite the broken leg!’
Hal was seriously starting to relax and enjoy Kit’s company, as well as his indisputably delicious meal, when a familiar male voice sent a disagreeable chill down his back. Looking up, he came face to face with the insincere smile of his ex-business partner Simon Rigden.
Simon was wearing his trademark designer suit, and his mid-brown hair was slicked back and as perfectly styled as always. But his over-familiar air and polished appearance weren’t about to make Hal feel remotely friendly or predisposed to let bygones be bygones. The man was a wily snake and he’d be a fool to forget that for a second time. The pity was that he hadn’t recognised it as being the case when they’d first met and he had stupidly made him his partner...
Ignoring the slightly pudgy hand held out before him in greeting, he took his time in touching his linen napkin to his lips, then emitted a weary sigh. ‘If your aim was to ruin my day by appearing like this then you’re wasting your time, Simon. That skiing accident on the Aspen slopes confirmed the realisation I already had about you...of what a conniving, merciless little weasel you are.’
Glancing across the restaurant, Hal saw a couple of similarly dressed businessmen he didn’t know from Adam raise their glasses to him in a presumptuous gesture of acknowledgement. Clearly his one-time friend and business partner had company—and perhaps not so savoury company.
‘Why don’t you just slink back to what I’m sure are your equally disagreeable companions and endeavour to ruin their day instead? I have every confidence you’ll more than succeed.’
Beneath the tan that he liked to keep topped up with frequent trips to the Caribbean and other fashionable hot spots round the world, Simon visibly flushed. But then exerting a little sweat and doing an honest day’s work had never been one of his biggest priorities, Hal recalled. It was one of the reasons he had paid him off—in hindsight far too generously—and brought their partnership to an end. In another era Simon Rigden would have been known as being a reprehensible louche, he was certain.
‘You’re obviously feeling bitter because I won our little bet that I was a better skier than you and that I could beat you on what’s known to be one of the most challenging slopes in the world,’ Simon accused him mockingly. ‘You feel humiliated that you crashed into that snowbank in front of several of your cronies. Everyone knows how much you hate to lose, but you weren’t exactly “Lucky Henry” that day—were you, Hal?’
‘You’d better leave before I signal the maître d’ and have you thrown out for being a nuisance.’