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“Nothing significant,” he says quietly, smiling. But it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. I question whether to push him. Do I want to know?
The waiter appears before I can answer my own question, placing two plates down and turning each one meticulously so the Arlington Hall crest is precisely at the top. Then he proceeds to give a description of everything on the plate, how it’s cooked, the ingredients, and where it’s all sourced. “Thank you, it looks delicious.”
“Thanks, Ken,” Jude murmurs, sitting back. “Dig in.”
I collect my silverware. “I’m not sure one shoulddiginto a plate that looks this good.” It’s a masterpiece. I slice off a piece of lamb from the cutlet and hum, the meat literally melting in my mouth, the mint strong but not overpowering. “This is really good.”
“It is,” he agrees, starting to eat too. And now he’s got me off while listening to me pant an answer to every question he had, it’s his turn to go deep.
“Do you have any siblings?” I ask.
“Two brothers,” he answers. “I’m the eldest. Rhys is twenty-eight, Casey is thirty-one.”
Rhys. It was his brother who called him. “And you’re ...?”
He tips a small smile my way. “Thirty-five. And you’ve just turned thirty.”
“Did you memoriseallthe private information you hold on me when you abused your position of power?”
“Yes,” he says, reaching for his napkin and wiping the corner of his mouth. “I’ve been abusing my position of power since I met you.” He frowns a little, lost in thought for a moment. God, I’d give anything to know what those thoughts are.
“Can I ask about your parents?” I say tentatively, focusing on my cauliflower puree, mixing the rich gravy with it. When I see him pushing a carrot around his plate out the corner of my eye, I know I’ve hit a raw nerve. He’s staring at his dinner.
“Dad died when I was twenty-four.” He smiles to himself, but it’s such a sad smile. “Mum was lost without him. When she found Arlington Hall, it lifted her. Gave her something to focus on. Obviously, it didn’t look like this then.”
I instinctively reach for his hand. He was too young to lose his dad. I won’t ask how he died, that would be insensitive. And his mother too?
Jude looks at my hand in his and squeezes it. “I don’t know what she saw in the place, or how she even came to be out here. It was off the beaten track; she had no business being in the area.” I can see his mind travelling back in time. “She called me, told me she’d stumbled upon a beautiful building in the middle of nowhere and she wanted to buy it.” He huffs. “I was worried. It was so spontaneous, but I couldn’t bring myself to shit all over her excitement, so I let her drag me out here, and, Jesus, it was a fucking wreck.”
I smile. “Not anymore.”
“Not anymore,” he says, giving up on his dinner and placing his fork down, keeping hold of my hand on the table. “Mum died three years into the restoration.” He smiles at me, seeing my slight recoil. He lost them so close together? “She didn’t get to see Arlington Hall as you see it, and isn’t that a fucking tragedy?”
It really is. God, he looks so beaten all of a sudden. “I’m sure she would have been very proud of what you’ve done.”
“I know she would.” Abandoning my hand, he tops up our glasses. “Now, if you don’t mind, I didn’t plan on such a sombre mood during dinner with you.”
Lighten things up.“But you planned on sending me wild and bringing me to climax over conversation?”
“Of course,” he replies, simple as that. “But as you know, Amelia, you send me wild too.”
Speaking of which ... “Shall we talk about earlier?”
His face falls a little. “I’d rather forget it ever happened.”
“I’d rather understand why it did.”
He flicks his eyes up from the glass he’s fiddling with. “Is it wrong to want you to myself?”
“It is if we’re not on the same page.”
His eyes darken. He didn’t appreciate that. “What page are you on?”
“I don’t know,” I admit quietly.
“I’m not sure how much clearer I can be about what page I’m on. I want you.”
My next question should be for how long. But I’m reasonable enough to know that’s a stupid question to ask someone I’ve known a couple of weeks andnotslept with. That alone seems crazy. I’ve not slept with him. Done many things, but not actually slept with him. “The possessiveness, the gifts. I feel like I’m in a relationship and we’ve not even had sex. Or is that all part of your seduction?”