‘What?’ Ben guffawed. ‘Budgie smugglers? As in a small parakeet?’
‘Something like that,’ Amy replied. ‘And I’ve got some friends from Sydney who call them banana hammocks.’
‘Banana hammocks,’ Ben mused. ‘Disturbing.’ He feigned a shudder. ‘If this conversation goes any further I’m going to need alcohol. Care to choose?’ To Amy’s complete surprise, he pushed the wine list towards her.
She internally grimaced. Her tried-and-tested technique in choosing wine was usually to order the second cheapest bottle on the menu. ‘You know, it’s probably better you pick. I’m pretty clueless about wine, which is a bit silly since I grew up on a winery.’
‘A winery? You become more and more interesting.’ Ben tilted his head to the side, studying her features in the soft light cast by the lone candle at their small table.
‘Yeah. I do.’ Amy couldn’t help a cheeky grin.
Ben waved a waitress over and ordered an Abbey Vale Chardonnay before turning back to Amy.
‘Which winery and where?’
‘Evangeline’s Rest. It’s only a short distance from Abbey Vale, actually,’ Amy supplied. ‘I don’t know if you’ve heard of it.’
‘I have.’ Ben raised his eyebrows. ‘Does your family own it?’
‘Funny you should mention that.’ Amy took a bite out of her bread roll. ‘My sister is now engaged to a member of the family that owns it, but when we were kids my dad just worked there, so we lived on the property.’
‘Oh? You don’t look like any country lass I’ve ever met. Not enough beefy muscles, and I checked–your knuckles don’t drag on the ground.’
Amy eyed off the basket of bread rolls, wondering what one would look like when it connected to the side of his head. ‘You better behave, or I’m gonna be clumsy the next time you come in for a shave.’
‘Ah.’ Ben’s his lips curved into a satisfied grin. ‘So you want my repeat business. I’m growing on you, aren’t I? Admit it.’
‘Maybe. Like a fungus.’ Amy screwed up her nose. She opened her menu, saw the prices and experienced genuine heart palpitations.
‘Fungus, eh? Well, I’ve always thought mushrooms were one of the tastiest foods in existence. Think of me as a rare truffle.’ Ben perused his own menu, then glanced up. ‘Although we can’t all be truffle lovers. You look concerned. Nothing on the menu to suit your tastes? You have an explosive allergy to seafood?’ In a completely unexpected gesture, he leaned forward and placed his much larger hand over hers to gain her attention.
Amy’s whole body felt electric as an unexpected jolt of pure lust hit her in the sternum. Inhaling sharply, she lost herself in the feeling for a few delicious seconds before drawing her hand away.
He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Or maybe it’s my company you’re allergic to?’
‘No! Everything’s . . . fine. Marvellous.’
‘Well, it’s nice to know you think my company is marvellous, but we’re talking about the menu.’
Amy let out an involuntary chuckle just as the waiter appeared with the wine. ‘The menu’s fine.
You’re
a pest.’
Appearing faintly irritated at the intrusion, Ben didn’t bother going through the usual glass-swirling, cork-sniffing ritual that went with wine in a high-end restaurant. Instead, he tasted it impatiently, nodded, then turned back to Amy. ‘It’s not vinegar.’
‘Good to know,’ she said, thanking the waiter and taking a sip. It certainly wasn’t vinegar. Wow. Yum. She took another bigger sip, feeling the wine hit her empty stomach, untangling the giant knot of nerves there.
The still hovering waiter asked if they were ready to order and Ben gave Amy an enquiring look.
She longingly looked over the mouth-watering selection of seafood dishes on the menu before turning the page and locating the salad, thinking it would be the less financially crippling option.
‘Give us a moment.’ Ben politely gestured the waiter away and then narrowed his eyes. ‘You know, speaking of allergies earlier, I have one I should probably tell you about.’
‘Hmm?’ Amy looked at him, still distracted by the restaurant’s idea of a reasonable price for a bit of lettuce tossed in olive oil.
Ben winced, his features screwing up comically. ‘Salad. I’m afraid if I see nothing but salad on a lady’s plate I get this twitch and experience the overwhelming urge to force-feed her red meat. You aren’t a vegetarian, are you? No? I hear the seafood here is fantastic.’
‘It looks it.’ Amy drew a bracing breath. ‘The grilled snapper
does
look wonderful.’
‘It does at that.’
‘Mind you, I
am
feeling stubborn.’ Amy pursed her lips. ‘It sounded like you were just telling me what I could and couldn’t eat.’
Ben sighed. ‘No. Well, actually, yes but only to make sure you order something you’ll enjoy. It’s incredibly boring to see someone martyr themselves when there’s good food on offer. Have I offended you?’
Amy feigned her best offended expression. ‘Horribly.’
Ben theatrically smacked his forehead. ‘Damn. Well, would it help if I just made a blanket apology for the entire evening? I’m probably going to offend you at least another twenty times before dessert and I can’t even imagine what ridiculously stupid thing is going to come out of my mouth when I awkwardly suggest you come back to my place for sex later. I assure you that it will be hideously insulting. I apologise wholeheartedly in advance.’
Amy slammed a hand over her mouth to muffle her surprised peal of laughter but was still loud enough that diners at surrounding tables paused in their conversations to see what all the fuss was about.
‘Does this mean you forgive me in advance?’
‘Maybe.’ Her lips twitched as she tried to hold back more laughter. ‘Alright.’
‘Good.’ Ben leaned back in his chair, idly swirling his wine around the glass. ‘Because now you’ve given me licence to misbehave later.’
Amy raised her brows. ‘Who says I won’t be the one misbehaving?’
‘Oh? I hadn’t thought of that. Well, I’m a generally magnanimous kind of guy. Give it your best shot and I’ll try my utmost to forgive you.’ Ben held her gaze for what seemed like hours, his smile slowly transforming into something more serious.
She turned her head and looked back out over the night-darkened sea. ‘You never did tell me what you do.’
‘No, I didn’t. We’ll come to that.’ He paused as the waiter returned. ‘Did you decide what you wanted to order? The salad? No? Oh good. I’ll have the steak.’
Two hours and another half a bottle of wine later, Amy still had no idea what Ben did for a living, but that didn’t seem so important any more.
‘I’m not going to be able to walk out of here after that chocolate mousse,’ she groaned, discreetly rubbing her tummy while blotting her mouth with her napkin.
‘Don’t worry. I’m sure they have a device for extracting overfed customers at closing time. What do you think it’s called?’ Ben lounged back in his chair, looking effortlessly handsome and just a little bit predatory.
‘A wheelbarrow?’
‘Hmm, no.’ He feigned thoughtfulness. ‘It probably
would
be a wheelbarrow, but you’re obviously not well versed enough with the tricks of marketing. It would have to have an attractive name. We’re effectively talking about glutton extraction here.’
‘Are you calling me a glutton?’ Amy asked incredulously.
‘You’ve forgiven me for all offence this evening, remember? And no. Of course not. Perish the thought. A more effective way of removing you would be if I came around the table, threw you over my shoulder and carried you out of here. It would be incredibly manly. You’d be impressed.’ He grinned.
‘Or vomiting down the back of your suit.’
‘There is that. No. Wheelbarrow it is.’ Ben sighed. ‘Shall we go?’ He gestured to a passing waiter and requested the bill before turning back to find Amy rifling in her handbag.
‘Everything alright?’
‘Yes. Fine.’ Amy found her purse.
Ben’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you sure because, correct me if I’m wrong, you’re brandishing that like you intend to pay.’
Amy shrugged, forcing a cheerful smile. ‘Um, yeah. I don’t mind. I’ve really enjoyed myself. Dinner was lovely.’
‘So have I, and to keep it that way I’d suggest you put your money away.’ Although he still wore a contented feline smile, Ben’s tone conveyed obvious displeasure.
‘Are you sure?’ Amy bit her lip as he withdrew a wad of notes from his wallet and left it on the table, enough for the dinner and a generous tip.
‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Otherwise I’d be mortally offended.’
Amy grimaced. Damn. Why hadn’t she listened to Myf earlier? She should have known Ben wouldn’t be like the men she’d dated in the past who’d let her pay without blinking. She’d offended him, which was the last thing she wanted to do after having so much fun tonight. Reaching out, she rested a hand on his sleeve. ‘Thank you. Dinner was lovely.’
‘My most profound pleasure,’ he replied, tucking his wallet back in his pocket and then noticing Amy’s downcast expression. ‘Oh damn. You’re not upset, are you?’ He looked horrified at the thought. ‘This isn’t some ludicrous Australian ritual I’ve failed to grasp, is it?’
‘No!’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive,’ she insisted.
‘Wonderful. Shall we go then?’
‘Okay.’ Amy heard herself say shyly, feeling a little derailed and not quite sure what was supposed to happen next. Normally she’d suggest going back to her place but right now that didn’t seem right. She stood up and Ben placed his hand on the small of her back, proprietarily, scorching through her dress as they left the restaurant.
Ben opened Amy’s car door and took advantage of her slightly tipsy state to keep his hands on her as long as possible as she climbed in. Somewhere in the last five minutes the evening had spun a little out of his control and he was at something of a loss. His original plan had been to wine and dine the lady and then end the night with the promise of seeing her again in the near future. He’d changed his mind. He was enjoying himself far too much to want the evening to end, despite the complete curve ball she’d thrown him by trying to pay for dinner. The meaning of Myf’s earlier comment should have given him warning; he’d failed to grasp its significance, much to his peril.
His fleeting irritation had dampened Amy’s mood and it was evident that he’d have to put in a bit of fancy footwork if he was going to get her somewhere private and see what she was wearing under that dress. How far would she take the look? Was she wearing old-fashioned sexy pin-up underwear too?
The woman was funny, fascinating, complicated, confusing and above all, unexpectedly fucking sexy. Even better, she had no notion of his celebrity. The latter was an incredible turn-on. He never slept with women on the first date, but he was certainly thinking of it now. In the past, he’d always preferred to commit to a short-term relationship at the very least before initiating sex. Not jumping into the sack gave him a chance to determine whether or not he was dealing with a raving star-fucker in disguise. Previous recent experience had taught him the perils of falling into that trap.
More importantly, he also liked to get a handle on a lady’s likes and dislikes and what gave her pleasure. As far as he was concerned, a mixed bag of sexual tricks was all good and fine but it was just that–mixed, like the assorted sweets he’d bought in copious amounts as a boy. A lady might like the liquorice and chocolate buttons but absolutely hate the gummy bears and jelly beans. Better to have a tailored assortment. Funny thing, though, after his conversation with Amy this evening, Ben had a sense that he could spend years trying to figure her out and still wouldn’t succeed. She presented a challenge, and a very intriguing one at that. Better than that, she inspired him.
‘What are you thinking?’ Amy’s quiet, melodic voice broke through the silence.
‘About sweets, actually,’ Ben replied honestly, then made a decision. ‘I have an idea. It may be a hideous one, so feel free to scream if you don’t like it.’
‘What is it?’
‘Well, the thing is . . . I have this large house not far from here.’
‘Hmm?’
‘And there’s a spectacular thunderstorm raging off the coast if you look that way.’ He glanced over and noticed she was smoothing her hands up and down her thighs; the movement was bloody distracting and he had to force his eyes back to the road.
‘Yeah?’
‘How do you feel about coming to my place and watching it with me? I have these monstrously large windows, a very comfortable sofa to sit on and, above all, a very nice body, have you noticed it? I hope so, considering the amount of work I put in to keep looking this good. I’m more than willing to let you snuggle up against me if you get scared of the thunder. You can even take advantage of me if you’d like. That’s why you attempted to pay for dinner, wasn’t it? So I’d feel obliged to sleep with you?’ He checked Amy’s expression for her reaction to his words and regretted his bloody fool mouth. Rather than looking amused, or even offended, she looked completely gobsmacked. Those brilliant blue eyes were wide above cheeks flushed with a blush that was visible even in the dull streetlight.
After two minutes of excruciating silence, during which Ben swore she’d rubbed a hole in her dress with the palms of her hands, she finally spoke. ‘Okay.’
‘Pardon?’ It was Ben’s turn to be completely surprised.
‘Yes,’ Amy said, her voice firmer now.
They pulled in to Ben’s driveway five minutes later.
His sprawling white Modern-style house was lit up like a beacon welcoming alien invasion, but that was nothing new. Ever since he’d been the brunt of a school initiation prank gone wrong, he’d hated the dark and avoided it whenever possible. Not that he’d ever admit he had an actual phobia or fear; he preferred to think of it as an aversion.
He owed the boys who’d locked him in a closet on his first night at boarding school his entire career. When they’d finally let him out, he’d cracked a joke that had made them laugh and hadn’t looked back. Words would become both his best defence and weapon and they’d served him well ever since. Needing the lights on at all times was a small price to pay for the discovery of such a gift.
The illumination came in handy right now because it allowed him to catch every nuance of Amy’s reaction to his new home.