‘No, of course not…’
‘Say it, Charlotte.’
She felt her stomach give a little quiver. ‘Damon…’
His mouth tipped upwards in a satisfied smile as his hand fell away. ‘I like the way you say my name. No one else says it quite the way you do. You sort of breathe it out of your mouth in a husky little whisper.’
Charlotte could feel the heat seeping into her cheeks and looked away again. ‘We’d better get going; I’ve only got an hour and with Julian still off sick I’ve got extra work to do.’
She fell into step beside him as they walked across Hyde Park, her heart racing each time his arm brushed against hers. Her fingers itched to slip into the warmth of his hand and, to stop herself from being tempted, she crossed her arms over her chest.
‘Are you cold?’ Damon asked.
‘No.’
‘Here, take my jacket.’ He slipped it from his shoulders and draped it around her. ‘The wind is chilly. I heard there is going to be snow on the Blue Mountains this evening.’
Charlotte felt her insides twist as she thought of the clinic Stacey should have been in by now. She had lain awake for most of the night, imagining her sister shooting up all of Damon’s money. She didn’t want to give up on her own flesh and blood, but she was starting to realise that Stacey—like their father—was fast moving past the point of no return.
‘Feeling better?’ Damon asked.
Charlotte could barely look at him for the guilt she was feeling. ‘Yes…thank you…’ She huddled into his jacket, breathing in his scent as the lingering warmth of his body on the expensive fabric encompassed her slim frame.
The restaurant was busy but the maître d’ escorted them to a quiet table in one corner.
Charlotte examined the menu, hoping it would stimulate her appetite, but every time she saw the price of a meal she was reminded of how empty all of her accounts now were.
‘You look worried,’ Damon observed. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’
He smiled at her too rapid response. ‘Yes, there is; I can see it on your face. I said it was just lunch, OK? No strings. I will even let you pay half if that makes you feel more comfortable.’
‘No!…er…I mean, that’s not the problem…’
He leaned forward slightly. ‘What is the problem?’
‘I’m just finding this…a little difficult…’
‘You and me?’
Her eyes met his briefly. ‘Yes…we haven’t seen each other in almost four years…I don’t know what to say to you…’
‘Tell me about your life,’ he said, leaning back as the waiter placed water and bread rolls on the table.
‘My life?’
He gave her an ironic look. ‘You do have one, do you not?’
She looked down at the table. ‘I’m sure it’s pretty boring compared to yours.’
‘What about relationships?’ he asked. ‘Do you have a serious boyfriend?’
‘I would hardly have agreed to spend time with you if I had,’ she pointed out with a wry glance in his direction.
‘You think I am an arrogant bastard, do you not?’
Charlotte saw no reason to spare his feelings. ‘Yes.’
‘I was surprised at how seeing you again brought it all back.’
‘Brought all what back?’
His smile was crooked. ‘No one has ever made me feel the way you do.’
‘I’m sure you’re just saying that.’
He reached for her hand and enclosed it in the warm temptation of his. ‘I mean it, Charlotte. I want you as much as I ever did and you want me. I can see it in your eyes every time you look at me. There’s a hunger there that tells me no one has been able to satisfy you the way I did.’
She pulled her hand out of his. ‘You broke my heart, Damon. I’m not going back into the ring.’
He frowned as he sat back in his seat. ‘Come on, Charlotte. You know I had no choice but to believe you were responsible. Every finger of blame pointed to you.’
Bitterness sharpened her gaze as it connected with his. ‘You had a choice to believe me but you chose not to.’
He let out a sigh. ‘I have agonised over it for the last four years but I keep coming back to the same point—if you did not steal those sculptures, then who did?’
‘I don’t know, but someone didn’t like the fact that you and I were an item. What about your childhood sweetheart, the woman you were expected to marry?’
‘Iona Patonis?’
‘Yes. She came into the gallery with Eleni a few times. She was a brooding sort, I always thought. She could easily have done it.’
‘Iona would never have done something so despicable,’ he insisted. ‘She is one of the most kind-hearted people I know. She helped nurse my sister for months and she has been a wonderful support to my mother since Eleni died.’
‘Then why haven’t you married her?’ she asked. ‘She clearly expected you to.’
He tapped his fingers on the stem of his wineglass for a moment. ‘That is a good question.’
‘Are you going to answer it?’ Charlotte asked after a short silence.
His eyes came back to hers. ‘Iona gave up on me a while ago,’ he said. ‘She married a cousin of mine. I think you might have met him once—Nick Andreakos. I believe she is already expecting their first child.’
Charlotte hoped her surprise wasn’t too evident on her face. ‘Did you find that hard to cope with?’
He gave a dismissive shrug. ‘Not really. If I had married her, it would have been a marriage of convenience in any case.’
‘You didn’t love her?’
‘I loved her in a brother sister sort of way,’ he said. ‘But there was no spark, if you know what I mean.’
Charlotte knew exactly what he meant. She could feel it now, just by sitting with her knees so close to his. She had only to stretch out her legs and the heat would explode between her thighs.
She looked down at the menu again and tried to concentrate.
‘What would you like to eat?’ he asked.
She closed the menu again and put it to one side. ‘I’ll just have the soup of the day.’
‘Is that all?’
‘I’m not very hungry. Besides, I have to cook a proper meal when I get home, so…’
‘So?’
Charlotte inwardly gulped.
‘Why do you have to cook when you get home?’ he asked. ‘You could have a main meal now and just have a snack later.’
‘I l-like to cook.’
‘What is your speciality?’
She blinked at him vacuously. ‘Speciality?’
‘Your favourite dish.’
Her eyes fell away from his. ‘Um…it’s kind of hard to choose…’
‘I did not know you were so domesticated,’ he commented. ‘When