Page 29 of Peyton's Price

The meal had been a light mix of Mediterranean goodies, but they had spent so much time talking, nearly two hours had passed before she knew it.

“I worked up an appetite in the pool,” he said, continuing on with an easy gait.

“I may have to try that.” Otherwise, she’d gain twenty pounds before theOrmen Langedocked.

Ahead of them, a uniformed man came toward them in the hallway. He lit up at the sight of his employer, but he grew a little stiff when he spotted her. Red-faced, he nodded quickly and ducked his head.

It wasn’t the first time something like that had happened.

She waited until they were sitting at the dining booth again before she said anything. “Matthias, have you noticed how awkward the staff seems to be around me?”

“Have they not been helping you?” He frowned. “If they haven’t been doing their duty…”

“Oh, no. It’s nothing like that. They’re very attentive.” In fact, they bent over backward to help her whenever they could. “It’s just that they’re not very talkative. Except for Priya, I seem to make them anxious.”

The Indian woman was the sole exception. But even she never dropped the conservative professionalism she’d displayed since Peyton arrived. Her conversations with the woman had been stilted at best. Only Matthias seemed comfortable around her.

Her host wrinkled his nose. “I apologize. I’ll speak to them.”

“No, don’t do that,” Peyton said hastily. The last thing she wanted was for their boss to shame them into being friendlier. “I simply wondered what was wrong.”

“Nothing. At least, nothing to do with you,” he assured her. “I should have realized earlier. Given the circumstances, it’s not a big mystery. I think the staff is afraid I’m going to resume my underground railroad.”

“Oh.” Peyton felt foolish. “Of course. They were all with you the last time when things went bad.”

His voice grew clipped. “It wasn’tbad. It was a bloody disaster—one I don’t intend to discuss in any detail, so don’t ask.”

He reached for the fork with an abrupt gesture, then proceeded to eat in silence.

Peyton felt ridiculously small. She could only imagine how difficult it must have been, trying to help people and having everything go wrong. The guilt he must have felt…

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You don’t have to talk about it. I understand.”

He huffed lightly, and his expression softened. “Let’s just have a nice meal and talk about nothing at all.”

With everything that was hanging over her head when she got back to Boston, that was an appealing offer. “Sounds good to me.”

The meal was superb. There were four courses, a mixture of Asian and French cuisine, followed by dessert. Each course had its own wine pairing. She begged off dessert, pleading for mercy. “Anymore and I may explode. Tell me, do you always eat like that? Because if you do, then why aren’t you a thousand pounds?”

“Most of the time, my staff has to remind me to eat,” he confessed. “My business interests are…extensive. I spend most of my day locked in my office. I have to set reminders to do things like bathe and eat. I hate being sedentary, so I periodically stop working long enough to throw myself in the pool. I also like lifting weights.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of obvious,” she said, trying not to stare at him. The breadth of his shoulders and arm definition alone spoke to hours spent in the gym. It put her new sloth-like existence to shame.

Peyton was going to have to ask him about the weight room. She hadn’t been aware the boat had one. But she should have. TheOrmen Langewas bigger than any cruise ship she’d ever seen.

“But you’re right I don’t usually eat this richly,” he said, shaking her out of her reverie. “I asked my chef to treat us to something special while you’re a guest here. When you’re back with Liam and the others, I wouldn’t want you to forget us.”

His words sent a wave of emotion crashing through her. It was hard to pinpoint which was the strongest. Relief mingled with anxiety, along with something else she didn’t want to name.

Seemingly unaware of her introspection, Matthias got up and offered his hand. “There’s another way to work off these excess calories. Dance with me.”

Peyton huffed, but she took his hand with a grin. “We’d have to dance all night to work off that meal.”

“Which we could do,” he said, pulling her close and turning her into a spin.

As if on cue, music began to play, piped in from God knew where. Peyton stopped, twisting to glance around. It sounded like a full-blown orchestra was in the room with them.

“How the hell did you do that?” she asked, wide-eyed.

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