Read Keeping Her Up All Night Online
Authors: Anna Cleary
He studied her, his head a little to one side. A gleam crept into his eyes. He glanced at the waiter, then back at his menu, his brow wrinkling. ‘Hmm … I’m tempted by the
potage
, myself, but I’m not entirely sure how substantial onion soup is likely to be. So for my entrée, along with my soup, I’ll order the duck parfait with balsamic onion jam and cornichons, and the cheese and walnut soufflé with frisée and pear salad.’
‘All for
monsieur
?’ The waiter could scarcely keep the shock from his voice. ‘While
mademoiselle
goes hungry?’
Guy nodded gravely, though his eyes danced with amusement. ‘
Mademoiselle
prefers to dine lightly, while I find myself ravenous. For my main course I’ll have the Châteaubriand with the mushroom ragout, witlof salad, Dutch carrots and Pommes Lyonnaise.’
A look of sly triumph occupied the waiter’s face. ‘Aha. It
desolates
me to inform
monsieur
that the Châteaubriand is only permitted for two diners. If you read on further, you will see there is a single-serve dish of
filet
with Brussels sprouts and a lentil
jus
.
Very
substantial—even for such a hungry man as yourself.’
Guy shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. I’m not much of a Brussels sprouts man. I’m afraid I have my heart set on the Châteaubriand.’
Amber nearly gasped. Was the man a glutton?
The waiter shared her concern. ‘But,
monsieur
. This Châteaubriand is a very
large dish
.’ He demonstrated excitedly with both hands. ‘There are two platters and side dishes to accompany. The Pommes Lyonnaise alone …’ He threw up histrionic hands as though words failed him.
‘I find I have a very large appetite,’ Guy said. ‘In fact, I see here in your
dégustation
menu you suggest a wine to accompany each individual dish.’
The waiter’s brows shot high on his forehead. He said incredulously, ‘
Monsieur
is wishing to order different wines with
each individual dish
?’
Guy frowned. ‘Oh, hang on there. Not
every
wine. Just this
sauv blanc
. And yes. I think the Bordeaux. The Châteaubriand deserves the finest available red, don’t you think? And bring the rest of this bottle, will you?’
He indicated the champagne. Rolling his eyes, the
waiter departed, but soon the bottle was produced and placed in a
très
elegant ice bucket.
Amber eyed Guy bemusedly. Surely he wouldn’t drink all that, and then
more
? The man would be sloshed. How much planning would get done?
She watched him pour himself more champagne from the bottle and raise it to his lips. As he savoured the sip, a strange expression crept over his face. ‘I’m not sure this is the same wine.’ He examined the label, sniffed it thoughtfully, then sipped again. ‘Nope. If it
is
the same it’s from a different bottle. This stuff’s off.’
‘
Off
? Are you sure?’ She glanced about at the austere gloss of the exclusive place. Every surface gleamed with class and honour. ‘What do you mean? Surely they wouldn’t—? Not
here
.’
He gave a solemn nod. ‘I’m afraid it can happen anywhere. If you don’t believe me … here, look. Give me that glass. Tell me if this tastes sour and vinegary to you.’
She handed over her empty water glass and he poured her a substantial drop of champagne. ‘Now, try that. Tell me if you think the quality has been compromised.’
Conscious of his grey gaze sparkling with alertness, she took a cautious sip. After the carrot juice, the wine tasted pleasantly tart on her tongue. Swallowing was like drinking a delicious mouthful of ocean wave. Almost as soon as the zesty bubbles hit her stomach streams of sensuous warmth irradiated her middle.
‘What do you think?’ There was a veiled gleam in Guy’s eyes, his crow’s feet charmingly apparent.
She glanced at him from under her lashes. ‘I can’t really tell yet.’
Well, it was essential to conduct a test rigorously. These French champagnes didn’t come cheap.
If Ivy could see her now …
If Ivy had read the prices on this menu …
She smiled. ‘I think perhaps the carrot juice could still be affecting my palate. I could probably give you a more accurate reading next time.’ She held out her glass. ‘A little more, please.’
This time she closed her eyes and swirled the blessed drop on her tongue before swallowing. ‘Mmm. Oh yes,
yes
. A little tangy to start with. Creamy. And then you get the full surge effect. And what a fantastic climax.
Bliss
.’
Heavens. Her eyes flew open. Had she actually
said
that, or just thought it?
He was scrutinising her, and with that silvery shimmer in his eyes, and the almost-smile curling up the corners of his mouth, she had the impression she might have actually said it.
‘So?’ he said, as smoothly as a wolf emerging from the trees of the Wessex woods. ‘What’s the verdict?’
She smiled. Gave a small bewitching laugh. ‘Don’t think I don’t know your game. You did that deliberately. You’re devious, Guy Wilder.’ She shoved her glass across the table at him. ‘Go on, then. Fill it up.’
It would have been unreasonable to drink his wine and then refuse to participate in any of the feast when it was delivered. Whether by art or coincidence, Guy found he didn’t really care for soufflé after all, or onion soup. He finagled a swap with her green salad, yet somehow she ended up eating as much of it as he did. As for the Châteaubriand, her half was sublime, especially washed down with a drop of Bordeaux.
And it was only a tiny drop. She wasn’t entirely seduced by the wine. But by the man …?
She was grappling with that. Desire seemed to burn more fiercely when emerging from under a cloud. Her
memories of his lips and hands on her body were powerful enough. The glow in his eyes seared her to the marrow.
As if by mutual accord neither she nor Guy made any reference to past wounds inflicted. Somehow, over dessert, he managed to listen to her dreams about the shop without laughing. And on the way home, after she’d tucked a copy of the menu into her purse to show Ivy, she must have forgotten for the moment who she was talking to—because she told him all about her mother.
He kept nodding and looking very grave, asking her things about Lise when she’d been well and strong, as if she was still a person worth discussing. Strange as it might seem, it was a relief to talk about her mother as a woman who’d lived and loved and achieved things. It was as though Guy understood about losing someone.
Strolling along moonlit streets after an evening replete with fine food, wine and more than a few laughs made conversation the safest option. And strangely, even after her ordeal earlier in the evening—or maybe because of it—it didn’t feel so weird to share things with him.
One good thing a fling achieved was to break the ice, she reflected. Especially a failed fling. There was no point holding back on the family skeletons when people already knew the worst about each other.
‘Coming home to nurse your mother was a great thing to do,’ he said. ‘But what about your career? When will you take that up again?’
She dropped her gaze. ‘Well … That’s pretty well over now. My place in the company has been given away long since.’ She made a rueful grimace. ‘Lucky I’ve got the shop. Now I’m a businesswoman. At least being so bright green I fit in with the stock.’
She laughed, and he smiled along with her, though soon she noticed him frowning to himself.
‘What about you?’ she said, eager to shrug off the subject of the shop for once. ‘Where are your parents?’
He made a laconic face. ‘Around. Last I heard they were in Antarctica.’
She glanced at him in surprise. ‘Don’t you keep in touch?’
‘Not very often.’ He shrugged. ‘They’re scientists. They do
vaguely
know they’ve got a son somewhere, I think.’
She chuckled. ‘So they do remember?’
‘Mostly. But their focus is saving the planet.’ He flashed her an ironic grin. ‘You can hardly blame them. There are far more fascinating specimens than this.’ He spread his arms to indicate himself.
She wasn’t so sure of that. He had her full attention.
She gazed at him in disbelief. ‘How long has this gone on?’
‘Always. I guess you’d say my grandfather had the pleasure of raising me while they gadded about the globe.’
‘Oh, no!’ she exclaimed, not sure whether or not his amused description concealed resentment. ‘Aren’t you angry with them?’
He shook his head. ‘Not really. It probably seemed sensible not to keep dragging me out of school. My grandfather was a great old guy.’ He smiled in recollection. ‘Always had something to laugh about.’
‘Oh.’ She lifted her brows. ‘So … your grandfather … is he …?’
He nodded. ‘Yep. Couple of years ago, now. That’s partly why I find myself holed up in Jean’s flat. Not solely to annoy Amber O’Neill and keep her awake.’ The moonlight picked up the silvery gleam in his eyes. ‘My grandfather left me his house and I’ve been renovating it. I’ve done a lot of it myself, but now it’s at that tricky stage where you have to call in the professionals.’
Maybe
she
was at a tricky stage.
The evening air felt unusually warm, almost languorous on her skin. Other couples might have been tempted to take advantage of the occasional shadowy niches between garden walls to indulge in a sexy clinch.
But not her and Guy. She sensed his desire, though. Every lingering glance from his darkened eyes burned. And every longing nerve cell told her he was as alive to the conditions as she was herself. If he once touched her …
She walked carefully, so as not to brush his sleeve with her hand. ‘I’m sorry about your grandfather. Do you miss him?’
He nodded. ‘I guess. I think of him often. Things he said.’ He smiled at her. ‘What about you?’ His brows edged together. ‘I can’t get over what a sacrifice you’ve made, leaving your career like that.’
She wanted to cover her ears. He shouldn’t be sympathising with her, tugging at her old desires like that. Heaven knew, she was weak enough to give in to self-pity over the way her life had turned out without being given more encouragement.
‘Look,’ she said firmly, ‘it’s not as noble as it sounds. I never intended to totally abandon it. That was just how it turned out. Gradually, over time. I took leave from the company in pieces—whenever there was a crisis. A few weeks here, a few there. I always expected Mum to get well. In the end I realised I was causing the company problems, so I resigned.’
‘But surely they’d take you back? Surely?’
She looked hesitantly at him. All her doubts and anxieties crowded into her mind. Would she even be up to it now? Eighteen months was a long time to go without full daily rehearsal. ‘But I have the shop now. I’m fine.’
He didn’t look convinced. Kept searching her face, frowning. ‘Where’s your old man in all this?’
‘Nowhere.’ She grimaced. ‘He left us when I was a kid. Flew to LA for a business conference, never to be seen or heard from again.’
He glanced sharply at her. ‘Is that right? Never again? Didn’t he ever contact your mother?’
‘I suppose he must have, because they did divorce finally. I guess I didn’t really know all that went on between them. Just the days Mum looked weepy and upset.’
‘Life’s hard, isn’t it?’ He walked in silence for a while, frowning. Then said quietly, ‘She must have been devastated.’
‘Oh, she was. After a while, though, she kept saying it was for the best. He was never going to grow up.’
That silence lasted for minutes. She couldn’t help thinking how amazing it was to be talking to Guy like this. Maybe she should give herself a good pinch. Her feelings about him over the last couple of days had been so negative.
While tonight he seemed so accessible. Gorgeous. Though initially the other night he’d been warm, too. And gorgeous before the sex. Was she being a fool? Being sucked in again by easy charm and that pulse that kept drawing her to him like an electromagnet?
They were in the street that led to the arcade when he asked, ‘Do you think if he’d asked to come back she’d have given him another chance?’
She looked quickly at him. Where had that come from? But she couldn’t read his eyes. ‘I doubt it. I saw how hurt she was. How—shattered. Humiliated in every sense. Once your illusions have been destroyed …’
‘Yeah.’ There was heartfelt agreement in that single low syllable.
He didn’t speak again until they were in the lift, where vibrations between them seemed to intensify.
‘How about you, Amber?’ Though his voice sounded casual, the darkened eyes on her face were intent. ‘Would you have given him a second chance?’
Her heart skidded. The subtext was clear now. He was talking about her and him. Would she give him another chance? Another chance to make love to her.
She knew what her body yearned for her to say. The temptation to touch him was extreme. But pride, self-esteem or whatever else forced her to hold her nerve.
‘I’d have needed to be convinced, Guy.’
A muscle twitched in his cheek. ‘What would you expect? A preview?’
‘A reasonable explanation would be a start.’
Frowning, he dragged a hand through his hair. The air tautened with suspense, with an almost tangible sense of his reluctance. Each time his darkened gaze clashed with hers the intensity in his glance dragged at her breasts and turned her insides to liquid.
When they reached her door she paused, hoping against hope he would say something.
Anything
to revive her illusions.
‘Well …’ Her voice was husky with night fever. ‘That was a lovely dinner. Thank you. It was good to—talk.’
He remained silent, his mouth compressed to a firm straight line.
She added, ‘I feel as if we understand each other a bit better.’
His jaw set hard.
‘Which is good, if we’re to work together.’
There was nothing more to say, so she turned to unlock her door.
‘Amber.’
His deep voice interrupted her as she inserted her key. She faced him again.