Surprise flickered in his pale eyes.
Cathy tilted her head, frowning thoughtfully as she regarded him. She had not really looked that closely at him. Earlier, she had been too nervous to gather more than a generally favorable impression about him. Now she inspected him feature by feature. His hair was dark, his brows also, and he was deeply tanned. The ice-blue of his eyes stood out in stark contrast. His cheekbones and jaw line were chiseled, giving him a rugged handsomeness. Under her perusal, his firm mouth flattened with some emotion. Upon her arrival, she had fleetingly been impressed with the breadth of his shoulders and his tall, athletic build. As Cathy recalled the gentlemanly gesture he had made, standing up to wait for her and then seating her at the table, she smiled faintly. As far as she was concerned, courtesy went a long way. Quietly, she said, “Yes, I find you attractive.”
Michael felt a release of sudden tension. He realized with mild annoyance that he had actually tensed during her deliberate inspection. He firmly took back control. “I’ve already told you that you are lovely. I meant it.” He paused while he contemplated her face. She had not reverted to looking uncomfortable again at his compliment. He felt that to be a good sign. He decided to push her a little further. “You said that you were divorced six years ago. How long has it been?”
She looked puzzled. It was a second before comprehension entered her eyes. Her cheeks flamed, which he found utterly fascinating. It was obvious that she was reluctant to respond to his question, but she finally did so. “Six years.”
Michael shifted in his chair, trying to ignore the stirring in his loins. “Why?”
He watched as she tensed and her posture stiffened defensively.
“Do you mind if we don’t share personal histories?”
“Not at all. I prefer it, actually,” he said politely.
Michael was pleased. Nothing bored him more than to be deluged with someone else’s drama and baggage. And here was a woman who didn’t want to discuss her past or want to know anything about him. She’s perfect. But six years celibate? He wondered about that. Perhaps she was so passionless that she had little interest in sex. He rejected that at once. Over dinner, when she had mentioned expenses, she had exhibited controlled anger. She had expressed interest and amusement during their conversation. Her laughter had been genuine. Those were not the emotions of a cold, dispassionate woman. Given her history of celibacy, however, he certainly would not expect her to jump eagerly into his bed. At least, not initially. No, she would have to be seduced and wooed. The enticement of the money had brought her to him that evening, but he doubted it would be enough to hold her, to make her open her arms and welcome him with abandon.
She posed a challenge. That appealed to him, stirring to life an anticipation that he had not felt in a very long time. He would enjoy taking her out to concerts and to dinner and all the rest of it. Judging from her conversation, she did not seem to have done much socializing. She probably did not make the income that allowed for such luxuries, he thought. It occurred to him that she probably did not own the necessary wardrobe, either. He looked her over again. Her outfit was conservative, and unless he missed his guess, it was part of a business suit. She dresses like a bank teller. One of the first things he would do, he decided, would be to take her shopping. On the spur of his reflections, he remarked, “You’re not wearing any jewelry.”
Surprised by the non sequitur, Cathy looked up. She paused in spearing up her last shrimp. She felt a momentary pang of regret. The few good pieces of jewelry that she had once owned had been auctioned off with her antique furniture. She met his eyes with frankness. “I haven’t got any jewelry.”