THE Hibiscus lived up to its recommendation, with even the indoor tables having a view of the spectacular pool, courtesy of glass walls on three sides of the restaurant.
Still, given the balmy night, it was going to be very pleasant sitting outside under the stars, and the table they were shown to did overlook the pool directly.
Round and glass-topped, the table was set with hibiscus-patterned place-mats, superb silverware and crystal glasses to suit every type of wine. The menus were printed with silver lettering on a laminated sheet which matched the place-mats.
After seeing them seated, the good-looking young waiter handed Rafe the wine list, then lit the lantern-style candle resting in the circular slot in the middle of the table, possibly where an umbrella would be inserted during daylight hours. The wine list was small but select, and Rafe ordered an excellent champagne to start with whilst Isabel silently studied the menu.
Even after the waiter departed she didn’t glance up or say a word, leaving Rafe to regret the crack he’d made about her perhaps not liking who she was. She’d looked down-in-the-mouth ever since.
But if she was going to keep firing bullets, then she had to expect some back.
Still…he hated seeing her sad.
But what to do?
‘Find anything there to tempt your tastebuds?’ he asked lightly on picking up his own menu. A quick glance showed there were three choices for each course, rather like a set menu.
‘I’m not that hungry, actually,’ she murmured, still not looking up.
Rafe put down his menu. ‘Look, I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t mean to offend you.’
Now she did look up. ‘Don’t apologise. You’re quite right. I don’t think I do like who and what I am. I suspect I never have.’
‘What rubbish. What’s not to like, except the way you used to do your hair? I hated that. And it wasn’t the real you at all.’
‘The real me? And what’s that, pray tell? Slut of the month?’
Rafe was truly taken aback, then annoyed with her. ‘Don’t you dare say that about yourself. So you’re a sensual woman and enjoy sex. So what? That’s nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘If you say so,’ she muttered unhappily.
‘You should be jolly well proud of yourself. A lot of females would have folded after what you’ve been through just lately. But not you. You lifted your chin, squared your shoulders and went on. I might not agree with your decision to have a baby all alone, but I do admire the guts it took to make such a decision.’
Isabel was taken aback, both by his compliments and his apparent sincerity. He liked her, and not just because she was good in bed.
‘Good grief, Isabel, don’t you ever go putting yourself down like that again. You have to be one of the most incredible women I’ve ever met, so stop that self-pitying nonsense and choose something to eat, or I’ll lose patience with you and not even want to play sheikh to your harem girl at the end of the night.’
She laughed, her eyes sparkling with returned good humour. ‘I knew I did right to ask you to come here with me. You are so…so…’
‘Sensible?’ he suggested when she couldn’t find the right word.
She smiled. ‘I was thinking more along the lines of refreshing.’
‘Now, that’s something I haven’t been called before. Refreshing.’
‘Take it as a compliment.’
‘Oh, I will, don’t worry.’
Her head tipped to one side as her eyes searched his face. ‘You really are a nice man, Rafe Saint Vincent. And a very snazzy dresser. Love that black and white shirt. Can I borrow it some time?’
‘You can borrow anything of mine you like. Sorry I can’t return the compliment. I have a feeling I wouldn’t look too good in any of your clothes.’
They were both smiling at each other when the waiter materialised by their side again with the champagne, which he duly poured, then asked if they’d like to order. Rafe did, with Isabel surrendering the choice to him, saying she liked the look of everything on the menu anyway and had recently used up all her decision-making powers.
He grinned and chose a Thai beef and noodle dish for an entrée and a grilled barramundi for the main, with a salad side plate.
‘And mango cheesecake for dessert,’ he finished up. ‘We’ll also be ordering more wine with each course. Do you have any half-bottles?’
‘I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t. However, you can order any of the wines listed by the glass.’
‘Really? What happens to the rest of the bottle if no one else orders it?’
The waiter gave a small smirk as he whisked the menus away. ‘It doesn’t go to waste, sir. Be assured of that.’
‘I’ll bet,’ Rafe said drily after the waiter departed. ‘I’d like to be a fly on the wall of the kitchen every night after closing.’
‘There are always perks to any job,’ Isabel pointed out.
‘Oh? And what were the perks of being a receptionist at a big city architectural firm?’
Isabel frowned. ‘How did you know that was my job?’
‘I found out when I rang Les and told him your wedding was off. We had quite a chat about you. He thinks you’re a dish and wanted to know what I thought of you.’
‘And you said?’
‘I was suitably complimentary but discreet. Not a word about this little jaunt, since it was obvious he knew your family fairly well.’
‘Fancy that. Rafe Saint Vincent—the soul of discretion.’
‘I have many hidden virtues.’
‘Some not so hidden,’ she said saucily.
‘Naughty girl. But back to the original question. What perks were there in your job beside meeting multi-millionaire architects?’
‘Not too many, actually. Free ball-point pens? And we won’t count meeting Luke, since that didn’t work out. I don’t have to ask you what the perks of your job are. I’ve seen them on the walls of your office.’
Rafe frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, come now, lover, those photographs speak for themselves. They have foreplay written all over them.’
‘You think I slept with all those women?’
‘Didn’t you?’ Isabel picked up her crystal flute of champagne and began to sip.
‘Heck, no. There were at least one or two who held out.’
Isabel spluttered into the glass.
‘But they were lesbians.’
Isabel had to put down her glass.
‘Stop it,’ she choked out, and mopped up around her laughing mouth with her serviette.
‘Would you like me to photograph you like that?’
Isabel swallowed. ‘In the nude, you mean?’
‘Good heavens, no. You saw my photographs. I never take full nudes. You can wear earrings, if you like. And those shoes.’