Right then, a tall, extremely handsome and well-dressed man around Flynn’s age spied them from across the room and came striding toward them.
“Flynn, I thought that was you,” he said with a smile that said he was really pleased to see him.
“Damien,” Flynn said, surprising Danielle when his face relaxed into a smile, surprising her even more when he stood up and the two men gave each other a brief hug.
Flynn pulled back. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Rome this week.”
“I was, but I had to come back for a series of meetings in Sydney.” Damien glanced at Danielle and gave her the full impact of his shrewd, knowing eyes. “Hi, I’m Damien Trent,” he said, holding out his hand. “And I’ll be taking my last breath before my friend bothers to introduce us.”
She put her hand in his and gave a polite smile. “I’m Danielle Ford.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, those eyes studying her in a fashion that reminded her of the man standing next to him.
Goodness, here was another ladykiller, she mused.
Damien looked back at his friend. “I’ve been meaning to arrange a poker night for when Brant gets back from his honeymoon.”
Flynn gave a wry smile, though Danielle sensed he’d noted Damien’s scrutiny of her. “I doubt he’ll want to play poker for a while yet.”
Damien grimaced in good humor. “Don’t tell me that. I’ll be shattered if Kia doesn’t let him come out to play once in a while.”
Flynn laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure he’d rather play poker with us than spend time with his new wife.”
“You have a point. Kia’s a beauty. A man would have to be crazy to leave her side for even a minute.” He glanced over his shoulder at the woman at his table. “And speaking of leaving a beauty alone, my date’s looking impatient.”
“Anyone we know?” Flynn mocked with what was obviously an in-joke.
Damien gave a low chuckle. “No.” He held out his hand for Flynn to shake. “Look, I must run. We’ve got tickets for a show. I’ll give you a call next week about the poker game.” He inclined his head at Danielle. “Nice meeting you, Danielle,” he said, then strode back over to the other side of the restaurant where the blonde sat at a table waiting for him.
Danielle watched the man walk away, then glanced at Flynn. “He seems like a good friend of yours.”
Flynn sat back down, his smile disappearing as an invisible barrier came back up. “Yes, he is.”
And that was all he said.
Just then the waiter brought their drinks over, a mineral water for her and a whiskey for Flynn.
Once they were alone again, Flynn picked up his glass, the material of his suit making a soft, sensual sound as he raised his hand in a toast. “Happy birthday for yesterday, Danielle.”
She raised her glass and clinked it against his, the small action somehow more intimate than it should be. “Thank you,” she said, avoiding his gaze as she took a sip then quickly set the glass down on the table, almost as if it burned her.
She thought of something to say. Something that didn’t hint at touching each other. “I gather that was Brant Matthews you two were speaking about?”
He gave her a dry look. “What do I get for telling you the answer?”
“A pleasant evening,” she quipped.
“And if I don’t tell you?”
“A pleasant evening by yourself.”
He gave a soft chuckle that rippled along her spine. “Then I’d better answer. I don’t want to give you any excuse to leave.” He leaned back in his chair and took a mouthful of his drink before speaking. “Yes, it was. Brant, Damien and I grew up together.”
She’d read about Brant Matthews in the newspapers, so she knew he and Flynn were millionaires. And Damien looked just as successful.
“Was that here in Darwin?”
“Yes. In the same street actually, though the area’s a bit more upmarket now than when we were kids,” he said with dry humor.
“Do you still have family here?” She found it odd thinking of him with parents and perhaps brothers and sisters. He seemed such a loner at times.
“My parents are dead.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Despite his toneless response, she knew the loss he must feel without them in his life.
He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. My mother died when I was young and my father eventually drank himself to death,” he said with a grim twist of his lips.
Her heart cramped with sympathy for him. He wouldn’t want her pity but she couldn’t help herself. “That’s so sad.”
“I survived.” His look said he was what he was today because of his past, and he’d make no apologies for that. “Now tell me your life story.”
She let out a slow breath. He gave an inch but wanted a mile out of her. “My parents are dead, too. They both drowned at the beach when I was thirteen,” she said quietly. “We used to live in this little town on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland, until my mother got swept out to sea by a rip and my father tried to save her.”
His mouth flattened in a grim line. “Life stinks at times,” he said tersely.
“Yes, it does,” she said, feeling that same old tightening in her chest whenever she thought of them. “After it happened, I felt like I’d never laugh again. But life goes on. I moved in with an elderly aunt here in Darwin. She treated me like a daughter but she died a few years later. I decided to stay anyway. I had nothing to go back for.”
He studied her. “You were young to be on your own.”
“I survived,” she said, mocking his own words.
Only, he didn’t smile as intended. His gaze continued to search her face. She could feel him trying to look inside her mind, her heart, her soul. She tried to break away from that mesmerizing look but couldn’t.
Thankfully the waiter returned with the menu and she was able to look away and take a breath. Flynn ordered swordfish steak without reading the menu but she spent the next few minutes deciding on a seafood cocktail entrée, followed by Tasmanian grilled salmon. Through it all, she could still feel him watching her, assessing her through her past.
“How long were you married?” he suddenly demanded, once the waiter departed.
She took a sip of her drink before answering. “Three years.”