British Bachelors: Gorgeous and Impossible: My Greek Island Fling / Back in the Lion's Den / We'll Always Have Paris. Jessica HartЧитать онлайн книгу.
day. And there’s nothing we can do about it. Although I do know one thing.’
He slowly exhaled. ‘I can hardly wait to hear it.’
‘I’m famished!’ she exclaimed with an overly dramatic sigh, in an attempt to break the tense atmosphere with a change of topic. ‘Can I suggest we break for lunch before we start on your mum’s personal life? Because I have a feeling …’ she looked at him with a grimace ‘… that we may need some fortification to get through it. And my body armour is back in London.’
‘Famished?’ Mark replied, blinking for a few seconds as though his brain was trying to process the words. Then his shoulders seemed to drop several inches, his back straightened and his head lifted. ‘Of course. In that case it’s my turn to provide lunch. Prepare to have your taste buds tantalised by one of the excellent tavernas on the coast. How does a big bowl of crisp Greek salad followed by succulent freshly caught sea bass and chips sound? But there’s one condition. We don’t talk about our jobs or why you’re here. Do we have a deal?’
Lexi’s mouth watered at the thought of it. Her last proper meal had been in Hong Kong two days earlier. Although lunch for two in a beautiful restaurant by the ocean could be mighty distracting if it meant sitting across the table from Mark for several hours, sharing delicious food.
‘Lunch in a restaurant?’ She baulked. ‘Do we have the time?’ She thought in panic of the mountain of paperwork they’d just left behind. ‘There’s a lot of work to do here.’
‘Which is why the fresh sea air will do both of us a world of good. I’ve been cooped up inside for the last three days. I need a break and a change of scene.’
‘Why don’t you go on your own?’ She smiled, nodding her head. ‘It’ll take me a few hours to read through these typed pages in detail. I’ll be quite happy with bread and salad.’
‘You can do that later,’ he shot back and looked at her through narrowed eyes. ‘Unless, of course, there’s another reason why you’d prefer not to eat lunch in public with me. Jealous boyfriend? Secret fiancé? Or simply worried about my table manners?’
He tilted his head and the tingles hit her the second those blue eyes twinkled in her direction.
‘Just say the word and I can provide excellent references for both my sobriety and my familiarity with cutlery.’
Lexi rolled her eyes. Mark was clearly determined to avoid what they had left behind in that suitcase of memories, so she relented enough to step back from the balustrade and shake her head.
‘No jealous boyfriends—or girlfriends, for that matter—no secret fiancé, and I’m confident that your table manners will be excellent. Okay, we have a deal.’ Her face softened. ‘However, there is one tiny problem.’
His eyebrows lifted.
‘Oh, yes, I know it’s hard to believe. I hate to admit this, but I didn’t have the heart to move the kittens out of the car last night. Can we walk there? Catch the bus?’
Mark pushed his right hand into his pocket and took a step closer, filling the air between them with a few inches of warm masculine scent. He pulled out a set of keys and swung them into his left hand. ‘No problem. I’m ready to go. How about you?’
‘You mean now? I need a few minutes to get changed and grab a bag,’ Lexi replied and twirled her forefinger towards her head. ‘And do my hair and put some make-up on.’
He looked at her open-mouthed for a few seconds, and then did a complete head-to-toe scan of every item of clothing that she was wearing. And actually smiled as he was doing it.
Lexi crossed her arms and glared at him. She felt as though his X-ray vision actually bored right through her trousers and the off-the-shoulder tunic to the brand-new red-lace lingerie beneath. Her neck was burning with embarrassment, her palms were sweating, and the longer he looked the more heated she became. This was not doing much good for her composure.
‘Oh, I really wouldn’t worry about that,’ he murmured. ‘Especially about your hair.’
‘What’s wrong with my hair?’ Lexi asked, flicking her hair out from inside her collar and away from the back of her neck. ‘Is there a dress code where we’re going?’
A peal of pure exuberant laughter came out of Mark’s mouth and echoed around the garden. The sound was so astonishing, so warm and natural, that Lexi blinked twice to make sure she was looking at the same person. Where had that come from?
And could she please hear it again? Because his whole face had been transformed into a smiling, almost happy version of the usual handsome-but-stern exterior. And her poor foolish heart jumped up and did a merry jig just from looking at him.
She’d thought Mark handsome before, but this was taking it to a new level.
‘You’ll be fine,’ Mark replied, looking rather sheepish at his outburst of jollity. And then he held out his hand towards her, as though he was daring her to come with him.
‘I’m going to need five minutes,’ she said, trying to sound bright and enthusiastic as she slid past him and tried to ignore his hand. ‘Just enough time for you to bring the car around.’
‘You don’t need five minutes,’ he replied with a grin, grabbing her hand and half dragging her off the patio and onto the gravel drive. ‘And who said anything about a car?’
‘Your carriage awaits, madam.’
Lexi stared at the motorcycle, then at the boyish black crash helmet Mark was holding, then back to the motorcycle. She stepped out onto the gravel and walked slowly around the vehicle, examining it from a number of angles.
Mark waited patiently for a few seconds as Lexi stopped and nodded her head several times, before declaring, ‘This is a scooter.’
‘Your powers of observation are quite superlative,’ he replied, fighting the urge to smile and thereby shatter even more of her expectations.
‘It’s a very nice scooter,’ she continued, ‘and very clean for a boy, but … it’s still a scooter.’
She seemed to suck in a breath, then shook her head twice and looked up at him with total bewilderment on her face.
‘But you can’t ride a scooter! It must be against the rules for English aristocrats to ride scooters. At the very least I expected some swanky sports car worth more than my house. This is incredibly shocking.’
‘I take delight in thwarting your expectations. For where we’re going, two-wheeled transport is definitely the best option.’
And with that he calmly unfastened a second crash helmet from the back seat and presented her with it. The helmet was red, with a white lightning arrow down each side and the words Paxos Pizza in large black letters across the front. Not something you could easily miss.
‘Ah. Yes. Cassie’s helmet came at a bargain price. That was the only one my pal Spiro had left in a medium.’
She looked dubiously at the helmet that he was holding out to her.
‘The only one? I see. And you’re quite positive that we shouldn’t take my hire car?’
‘Quite,’ he replied. ‘I would hate to disturb the cats.’
‘Ah,’ she said, ‘of course. The cats. A man clearly has to have priorities.’
Without saying another word she slid her shoulder bag over her head and across her chest, took the helmet out of his hands, swept back her hair and slipped the helmet on. All in one single sleek movement. She fastened the chinstrap as though she had been doing it all her life.
His silent admiration just clicked up two points.
‘Don’t say a word,’ she murmured, glaring at him through slitted eyes.
‘I wouldn’t dare.’ Mark patted