Page 35 of The Rules of Their Red-Hot Reunion

Pasco sent her a lazy smile. ‘Honey, nobody is ever too busy for a Tempest-Vane ball. I’ll arrange an invitation for you—you should come.’

He saw the hesitation on her face. ‘You should meet the Tempest-Vanes. They would be great contacts for you.’

‘Is this a business invitation or are you asking me to be your date, Kildare?’ Aisha asked before slinging one leg over his bike and scooting back.

Yeah, he didn’t blame her for sounding a little pissed off. ‘I’d love you to be my date, but I have to run the kitchen, so I’ll only be able to join you around ten-thirty, eleven. I’ll arrange for you to sit with Muzi and Ro, and the Tempest-Vanes.’

He saw her indecision and sighed. ‘Hey, I’m cooking and the menu is stunning. You know you can’t resist my food.’

She didn’t smile. ‘Do you want me there?’

God help him, he did. ‘Yes.’

‘Okay, then, it’s a date.’ She lifted her finger and sent him a cheeky smile. ‘But I’m only coming for the food.’

He grinned. No, she wasn’t. ‘Noted. And when can we get together to discuss Ro’s pop-up restaurant?’

‘I have a quietish day tomorrow, but I suppose that won’t suit you?’

His heart leapt at the idea of seeing her again so soon. And because Mondays were normally a slow day, he nodded. He had some meetings, but they could be rearranged. ‘That’ll work. I’ll be with you by nine.’ He dropped a kiss on her lips before helping to secure her helmet.

He settled himself on his bike, felt her arms around his waist, and sighed. He didn’t want this day to end; he liked being with her, having her in touching distance, hearing her voice, smelling her scent. He loved the sex, but the simplicity of her company was as wonderful.

She was still lovely, a little sweet, a lot sassier. Stronger too. There was definitely a balance between them that hadn’t been there before. He could, if he needed to, lean on her, knew she wouldn’t, this time around, break. Or run. He was less arrogant, he hoped, she a bit more assertive, and he liked them better now, as individuals and as a couple.

This could, if they chose to let it, grow into something...special. Intense. Meaningful and important.

And that terrified him.

Pasco, unfortunately, only made it to St Urban on Tuesday morning. Yeah, he was a day late, but on Sunday evening, after his call with Hank—and yes, he did want Pasco to fly over to inspect a building for a new restaurant—he checked in with his chef de cuisine at The Vane Hotel and, two minutes into his video call, realised Davit was either sick or getting sick. His sickly pallor, tired, dull eyes and his croaky voice made Pasco think his right-hand man was on the point of collapse.

Pasco, worried that Davit would infect the rest of his staff with whatever bug he was carrying, told him to go home. But Davit refused, telling him that two of his station chefs were off work, thanks to the same bug. Pasco didn’t hesitate and headed straight for the restaurant. He told Davit to beat it, pulled on his chef’s jacket, and got to work. Davit wasn’t ready to come back to work on Monday, but luckily, professed himself well enough to resume work on Tuesday.

‘Hi,’ he said when Aisha waved him into her office. He caught a glance at her face and internally winced. Tight lips, narrowed eyes, clenched jaw...he didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to realise she was ticked.

Pasco sat down in the chair opposite her and placed his ankle on his other knee as he inspected the loose braid running along the side of her head. With tendrils falling out, it was a soft and feminine look and was in direct contrast to her flat eyes and irritated expression.

‘Are you okay?’

Aisha didn’t look at him and neither did she reply. Unease rippled up his spine. He thought he’d try again.

‘Ready to head down to the cellar?’ he asked, glancing at his watch. It was nearly nine and if they got a solid three hours of work in, he could make the short trip into town and do a spot check at Pasco’s, Franschhoek and see what was happening there. He’d noticed an upturn in expenses and a downturn in income and he needed to get to the bottom of that problem.

God, it never stopped.

Aisha linked her fingers together and rested her hands on her desk. ‘No.’

Okay. ‘When will you be ready? In ten minutes? Fifteen?’

Aisha turned her computer screen towards him, and he pulled his eyes off her lovely face to look at what he presumed to be an online appointment schedule. Aisha jabbed a finger at a red block from yesterday. ‘I blocked off that time for you, yesterday. I have a slew of appointments this morning.’

Oh, crap. She was mad athim.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be here yesterday, but something came up. Can you not postpone this morning’s appointments?’

Aisha scowled at him. ‘I could, but I don’t intend to.’

Young Aisha would’ve jumped to do as he asked; Aisha today wasn’t budging. Dammit.

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