Page 26 of Masquerade

Tony’s beam was even wider than earlier. “All our recipes are secret and written in blood.”

“I’ll remember that. Great food.” Liam headed for the kitchen.

“He’s not my type.” Kate grimaced, knowing the barman would make a remark if she didn’t.

“Sure, he’s not.” The older man shrugged and looked down at the unfinished food. “That’s why you ate all my beautiful pasta.”

Kate gave the barman, who’d marvelled at her appetite for years, a death stare. “Definitely not my type. I’m just not hungry tonight. I’ll take it home for later.”

Tony ferried the plates back to the kitchen, passing Liam on his way to the booth.

“George called. He’s lined up the end of next week with his Genosearch mate. Anna has apparently hired a local photographer she’s never met to handle the photo shoot. Can you arrange your schedule to fit that?”

“I’ll have to.” Kate had a few more leads to follow up on the case. She’d also fielded two calls from her editor in the last few days. Finding writing time was becoming urgent; meeting the deadline for her book three outline and opening chapters was nonnegotiable.

“There’s more.” He accepted her time management as a given, a backhanded compliment. “News is the government will make an announcement on a hospital site in our project area tomorrow.”

“We were expecting that.”

“George has suggested a working dinner at his place before we leave?” He was asking.

Kate gave him brownie points. He always asked. He’d never once assumed she’d be available to suit his timetable. “My colleague is sending through a revised library schedule tomorrow.”

“If you send it to me, I’ll negotiate for a dinner date that suits us both.” Efficient, but letting any man arrange her schedule was a seismic shift.

“That works,” she agreed, and she was in serious trouble if the thought of spending an evening in his company left her weak at the knees. Seeing him wasn’t the problem. Inhaling his scent and recalling the pleasure of nuzzling at his throat set off the troupe of tiny acrobats resident in her stomach. Watching his hands perform mundane tasks when she’d prefer them on her was another problem. Most of the dizzying distraction was her unruly imagination conjuring a picture of him watching her watching him and wondering if both of them were creating wicked fantasies.

––––––––

Snuggled into a cornerof her favourite armchair, Kate jotted down the words and phrases swirling in her head. A stream of consciousness exercise to bring order to disordered thoughts, prompted by sharing Liam’s fantasies. Delicious, arousing, tempting—and her body tingled at the memory.

She glanced up when her sister burst into the room, guiltily shutting down her electronic notepad. “I wasn’t sure you’d come home.”

Anna flopped onto the sofa opposite, toed off her stilettos and curled her feet beneath her. “Maybe you’ve got a point with your anti-suit crusade.”

“Oliver was a disappointment?” Kate commiserated.

“Depends on your definition of disappointed.” Anna pulled clips from her elegant chignon, shook out her caramel—according to the label—coloured hair, then massaged her scalp. “He enumerated my many wonderful qualities over dinner.”

“Yet, you’re here,” Kate marvelled. “Did he slurp his soup?”

“He did not, but strangely every single positive attribute I possess is attached to a body part: luscious boobs, tight butt, sexy legs. He said he’d like to slide a particular appendage between the first, squeeze the second while I spread the third. Obviously not simultaneously.”

“Oh dear, and on a second date.” Kate wished she’d been a witness.

“I nearly suggested he go to you for pointers on the language of seduction.” Anna rolled her shoulders.

“Sounds unteachable to me.” Kate’s brief introduction to the sleek, stuffed merchant banker before her sister’s first date had left her unimpressed.

“Honey, we have had these conversations about pessimism before. Everyone is capable of learning,” her sister sighed. “It’s just I don’t want to be teacher all the time.”

“I have chocolate.” Kate had a secret stash for her sister’s rare bouts of despondency.

“I ordered a double hot chocolate for dessert, but I’m searching the house next time you’re at the cottage.” Anna vowed, suddenly dropping her feet to the floor and leaning forward. “How did your one-on-one with the hard-headed, besuited Liam go?”

“He wasn’t wearing a tie.” For a few moments, Kate had imagined him not wearing a damn thing. She’d forgotten reason and logic when his breath had caressed her cheek.

“Oh dear, and on a first date.” Anna mimicked her earlier tone.

---