Surprise: Outback Proposal: Surprise: Outback Proposal

“You’ve done this before,” Lucy noted. “Don’t tell anyone, but I buy mine from the supermarket.”

He tsk-tsked and shook his head.

“Lucia, Lucia. Don’t you know that food is the way to a man’s heart?” he said in a flawless impersonation of any number of elderly Italian women she knew.

“Damn. That was where I went wrong,” she said, snapping her fingers in mock chagrin.

Dom winced.

“Sorry,” he said. His gaze dropped to her belly. “I didn’t think.”

She shrugged. “It’s okay. It wasn’t my store-bought gnocchi that scared Marcus away. He fell for his yoga instructor.”

“Yoga instructor. That’s a new one. I thought it was usually the secretary.”

“Marcus is a photographer, so he had to improvise. But he’s making out just fine. Apparently what she lacks in the dictation department she makes up for in flexibility,” Lucy said. Then she flushed as she realized how jealous and bitchy she sounded.

The corners of Dom’s eyes crinkled as he grinned at her.

“Saucer of milk, table two,” he said.

She pulled a face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Yeah, you did. It’s okay. You’re supposed to be pissed off. The only people who are cool with being betrayed are people I don’t want to know.”

He took the gnocchi over to the stove and slid them into a pan of boiling water. His arms flexed as he brushed the last pieces from the plate. He hadn’t shaved today, she noted, and his jaw was dark with stubble, enhancing his rumpled, casual appeal.

Bare feet and stubble ought to be banned, she thought. I’d have to turn the hose on Rosie if she was here.

Dom turned his head and caught her staring. A slow smile spread across his mouth. She tore her gaze away and frowned down into her drink. Her heart was suddenly pounding, and she didn’t know what to do with her hands.

“So, um, what did your father say about us becoming partners?” she asked abruptly, desperate for distraction.

“I haven’t told him. It’s none of his business what I do with my investments,” Dom said.

“Wow. You guys must have had one hell of an argument.”

His mouth quirked wryly. “You could say that.”

He didn’t offer any more information, and she wasn’t about to push. They were business colleagues, not friends. On the personal front, they owed each other nothing.

“So, Lucy, the big question—do you like it hot?” he asked.

She blinked. “um, sorry?”

He laughed. “Maybe I should rephrase that. Can you eat chilies without getting heartburn?”

“Oh. So far, so good. But I’m definitely more on the coward’s side of the chili divide than the courageous.”

“Okay, why don’t you come over here and try the sauce, let me know if I’ve gone too crazy with anything.” He gestured for her to join him at the stove.

She came to a halt a few feet away, and he dipped a wooden spoon into a saucepan.

“Come a little closer so I don’t spill.”

She stepped forward, feeling acutely self-conscious. She was standing so close now that if she inhaled deeply her baby bump would jostle him. He lifted the spoon to her mouth.

“Blow on it a little, it’s hot,” he said.

She pursed her lips and blew gently. She could feel him watching her and heat stole into her cheeks. She told herself it was because she was standing near the stove and she was wearing a turtleneck, but she knew it had more to do with how broad his shoulders were up close and how good he smelled and how acutely aware she was of all of the above.

Desperate to get the moment over and done with, she leaned forward to taste the sauce. Tough luck if she burned her mouth. It would be worth it to gain some distance and some perspective.

The flavors of rich tomato, fresh basil, subtle garlic and the perfect amount of chili chased each other across her palate.

“Oh, that’s good!” she said, closing her eyes to savour the flavors.

When she opened her eyes again Dom was staring at her, his eyes very dark and very intent. Her breath got caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat and her gaze dropped to his mouth. He had great lips, the bottom one much fuller and softer-looking than the top. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him.

Dear God.

She took a step backward.

“You know, I might go powder my nose before we eat,” she said in a high voice she barely recognized as her own.

“Second door on your right,” he said easily.

She nodded her thanks and scooped up her handbag on the way. She heaved a sigh of relief when she was safely behind the closed bathroom door. Then she dived into her bag and found her cell phone. Rosie answered on the second ring.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting with The Bianco?” her sister asked, not bothering with a greeting.

“I need advice. He’s cooking for me,” Lucy whispered into the phone.

“What? Why are you whispering? Of course he’s cooking for you—he invited you to lunch,” Rosie said.

“I’m whispering because I’m in the bathroom, and I’m in here because he’s set the table with flowers and linen napkins and he’s made gnocchi from scratch and there’s wine and he just fed me sauce and looked at me as though maybe he really does want to take a bite out of me,” Lucy explained in a rush.

“Oh boy. I need to sit down.”

“Me, too,” Lucy said. She put down the lid on the toilet and sat.

“I’m freaking out here, Rosie. I have no idea if I’m reading things into the situation that aren’t there or I don’t know what,” she whispered, glancing toward the door.

“Calm down. Let’s assess the situation logically. You said there were flowers. What kind?”

“Roses.”

“And linen napkins. And he’s making pasta for you?”