Page 19 of The Billionaire's Seduction Revenge

“This goes beyond a normal amount of discretion.”

“Does it? What do women usually do with you, Vasilios? Pour out their hearts the moment you walk in the room?”

His smirk was some sort of confirmation of that.

The waitress returned brandishing one dish now—apparently they were to share—filled with scallops served in their shells. The fragrance of butter and garlic hit Emma and made her tummy twist in anticipation. She’d always loved scallops.

“Thank you,” Vasilios murmured dismissively, not taking his eyes from Emma’s face.

“I suppose that’s not an unfair assessment,” he said, returning neatly to their conversation. “From you, I’d settle for knowing a few basic biographical details.”

“Fine,” she said, but nervousness had her forming a fist beneath the table. “Such as?”

“Your surname?”

“Jones.”

“Emma Jones,” he repeated with obvious scepticism.

It was her maiden name, but no less valid. “So first I am secretive and then I’m a liar?”

“Emma Jones,” he said again, this time with a little more acceptance. “How old are you?”

“Twenty five.”

He frowned.

“Another lie?” She prompted, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“No,” there was something like uncertainty in his voice.

“Did you think I was older or younger?”

“That’s hard to say. In some ways, you seem younger, in others, older.”

She pulled a face. “That’s quite a feat.”

“You are innocent and naïve,” he murmured. “Clearly inexperienced, and untravelled.”

She balked at this description of herself, even when it was accurate. “You mean unsophisticated?”

“Yes. And before you get angry with me, these are some of the traits I find most…attractive…about you.”

Her stomach dropped right to her toes.

“There is something very natural about you, at times, something very open, that speaks of youth and innocence.”

Her tongue felt too big in her mouth, her hands suddenly seemed tingly and uncoordinated.

“And at others?” Came her breathy entreaty for him to continue. Despite the insults that were layered into his observations, there was also something warming about his comments, something that made her soul sing. The fact he’d looked at her and studied her so much couldn’t help but be flattering.

“At others, you seem far older than your years. Weary and wary, all at once.”

“Tell me, Vasilios,” she said tartly, the effect somewhat lessened by the shaking in her voice. “Is psychological assessment an area you’re formally trained in, or is it something you do simply for pleasure?”

“This is what I mean,” he responded, shifting in his chair so their legs brushed beneath the table. She startled, the contact immediately sending a shooting star of warmth through her body, making her skin tingle. “You are quick to deflect, to insult, to accuse. To mistrust. It’s at odds with the parts of you that are more open. Which makes me wonder…”

She didn’t want to know what he wondered, did she?

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