Page 35 of Just One Look

Wolf Child

Luka droveElizabeth back to the gym, where her car was parked. She didn’t say much, and neither did he. Today had shaken him. The look on Marko’s face when they’d loaded Nyree into the ambulance …

This was why he kept things light. He didn’t ever want to feel like that.

Even if he’d been able to.

When she directed him to her car, which was a little blue thing, and he’d pulled his own SUV to a stop behind it, she said, “Well … goodbye. I’ll probably see you around again. I don’t seem to be able to avoid it. Let’s hope it’s not as dramatic as our previous encounters.”

He said, “Do you want to have dinner with me?”

She’d had the door open, preparing to climb out. Now, she swung around to look at him. Startled, he’d call that. “Why?” she asked.

He had to laugh. “Have to say, nobody’s ever responded quite like that before. Because I’m hungry? Because we went through a rough time together? Because you were pretty bloody awesome, and you saved my mate from something too awful to think about? Or maybe because—why not?”

“Oh,” she said, seeming to weigh all of that. And not answering.

“You could at least close the car door,” he pointed out. “It’s a bit insulting.”

She didn’t. “When I saw you the other night,” she said, “you were with two women.”

Ah. He was beginning to see the light.

“Yeh,” he said, “I was. The first one, the blonde, was my ex. The second one, the ginger, was a first date. I wouldn’t be cheating on anybody, if that’s the problem. And it’s just dinner.”

“Oh,” she said. “That’s fine, then. If it was going to be romantic, then no, but it’s not, so—fine.”

He should definitely be insulted. Instead, somehow, he wanted to laugh again. “Why? Got somebody back home, or is it because I’m not a surgeon? My brain not up to standard? I’m trying to guess here. Or is it that my nose has been broken too many times? I’ve got a pretty average face, you’re right about that. The body’s not too bad, though, or so they say. You could just avoid looking at the face.”

“No. Of course not. Obviously, you’re a very attractive man. You must realize that. Sure, I guess, because I’m hungry, too, and I have to eat anyway. But I need to check on Webster. The dog. I could meet you somewhere, maybe.”

“I’ve got steak and veg in my fridge,” he said. “We could do that instead, if you like, since you don’t want romance. Or I could open a box of Weet-Bix and we could pour it into plastic bowls and eat standing up at the kitchen bench. Even less romantic, eh.”

She stared at him. “I’m not coming to your house. Are you kidding? Do youknowany women? Wait, clearly you do. Do they all just throw caution to the winds like that, then? Or—wait. Do they assume you’ll be having sex, so why not come over? Is this some sort of Tinder thing? Are we swiping?”

He was laughing. He couldn’t help it. “No. We’re not swiping. And I asked before I kissed your cheek, remember?”

“Oh,” she said. “Yes. You did.”

“Got a favorite restaurant yet, where you want to meet me? If not, we can do the Bistro, where I saw you the other night. And before we go any further, I plan to pay for it.”

“I can pay my own way,” she said. “I’m very well compensated.”

“I’m sure you are. And I still plan to pay. Because I asked you.”

She said, “All right. The Bistro.”

“Seven?”

“Fine,” she said, and climbed out of the car. Then she opened the door again, leaned inside, and asked, “Do I dress up?”

She made him smile so much. “Yeh. Let’s dress up.”

“Fine,” she said. “But don’t expect too much.” And slammed the door.

She might be a brilliant surgeon—he was ready to believe it, after today—but in bed? He was fairly certain she wasn’t a confident woman who knew what she was about. She wasn’t twenty-one, or twenty-five, either, and she didn’t have any sidelong looks from wicked-cat eyes. She didn’t have the first idea how to flirt, and he wouldn’t have placed any bets on her lingerie collection, either.

But he was happy to buy her dinner. Maybe just for the surprise factor.