Page 35 of Sweet Temptation

It didn’t come.

“I’m afraid I have a prior lunch engagement.” He cast another sidelong look at Meg. She was looking out the window intently, but of course, she could hear. She was wondering who Lhane was to him—his mother? A girlfriend? An ex-wife? A current one?

Any other woman, he would have let them wonder—his private life was no one’s business but his own.

Meg, though? He didn’t want her to wonder.

“Do you need more money this month?” He sensed Meg finally looking away from the window. He realized, belatedly, that it sounded like he was paying someone off.

He swallowed a groan. This—stuff with feelings—he wasn’t any good at it.

“John, we’ve talked about this.” He could hear the gentle amusement in Lhane’s voice. “Sometimes two people who hold some regard for one another will meet to break bread.”

He swallowed thickly, hands clenching on the wheel. Meg would likely hear him being scolded for being antisocial, but what she didn’t know—couldn’t know yet, because he hadn’t told her—was that once, many years ago, he’d been so neglected, had been taught so few of the skills humans used in their interactions with one another, that he’d had to have things like this explained to him plainly, then demonstrated so he understood.

When he wasn’t surrounded by people as demonstrative as the Marchandes, sometimes he slipped back into old habits.

He didn’t want old habits. He wanted to make new ones with Meg.

Sucking in a deep breath and gathering his courage—ridiculous, really, for a man who’d clawed his way into a small empire—he made the decision. This was something he could show Meg, could use to demonstrate that there was more to him than his former womanizing ways.

“Lhane, why don’t you join us?”

Tension was visible in every line of John’s body as he pulled to the curb in front of the Italian restaurant that Lhane had directed them to. Meg stayed still and silent, letting him sort through whatever it was that had him wound so tight.

“I donate money. Every month, to an organization called the Universal Boys and Girls Club.” He swallowed audibly, still facing straight ahead. “Lhane is the head of the American branch. She...likes to touch base, once in a while.”

Meg had questions...a lot of them. She knew of the Boys and Girls Club, and knew that they aimed to provide positive adult role models for at-risk kids. Much as she liked him, John didn’t seem like an overly philanthropic type—she’d never even heard him casually mention tax write-offs. And yet something about this particular organization had him tied into visible knots; ergo, it was something very important to him.

If it was important to him, then she could tamp down her rampant curiosity, so she swallowed the questions dancing on her tongue.

“I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

He opened his mouth like he was about to say more, then gave a curt nod and reached for his door handle. Meg stepped from the vehicle and met him on the sidewalk. She felt a pleasant jolt when he placed two fingers at the small of her back as he led her inside the Italian restaurant. She hadn’t expected to feel all warm and fuzzy from the tiny display of public affection, but in truth, she wanted to preen.

Look at this man, she wanted to shout. He’s big, and he’s beautiful, and he’s mine.

Before they could speak to the hostess, a tiny dynamo was standing beside her table, waving them over. At first, Meg took her for midthirties, then adjusted that estimate up by a good two decades when they got closer and she saw the fine lines bracketing the sleek Japanese woman’s eyes and mouth.

“Fifty-seven.” The woman caught Meg looking but didn’t seem affronted—she just grinned. “Coconut oil, and lots of it.”

Meg laughed, instantly at ease. Sitting when John pulled out her chair, she offered a hand. “I’m Meg.”

“Lhane Todoroki.” The woman looked her over, assessing, then nodded as though she’d decided that Meg would do. “I must say, it’s a relief to see that John has a friend besides me.”

Meg’s mouth fell open. She looked at John, appalled, and was shocked yet again to find him rolling his eyes, a grin playing around the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t be jealous, Lhane.” Slowly but deliberately, he laced his fingers with Meg’s and placed their linked hands on the checkered tablecloth. “You’ll always be my first love.”

“Flatterer.” The woman sniffed, but Meg didn’t miss the fact that she looked at the hand-holding for just a second too long...and then smiled, just a little bit.

She was pleased to see John...well, with Meg. And though hand-holding had been nowhere in their initial agreement, Meg liked it.

She liked it more than she should.

The waitress appeared, and Meg ordered white wine to match what was in Lhane’s glass. John ordered a beer. Feeling a sudden pressure to impress this woman who was a part of John’s life, Meg found herself starting the conversation.

“I hear you’re with the Boys and Girls Club.” Meg took what she hoped was a delicate sip of her wine. “It’s a wonderful organization.”

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