Permanently.
Fifteen minutes later they sat at the dining table. “Did you phone the hospital?” he asked as he spooned beef casserole onto his plate.
She swallowed her mouthful of food then nodded. “Dad was asleep, but they’re pleased with his progress. Mum said that if she hires a nurse, they might let him go home next week”
“Good.” He placed the spoon back in the dish and reached for the scalloped potatoes. “Tell me. Did you ever finish your degree?”
Her fork suspended in midair, wariness filled her eyes. “Er…no.”
“So you’ve given up your dream?”
Her expression clouded. “What dream?”
“I remember how you wanted to become a dietician. You said you wanted to help children learn to eat healthily so they’d grow to be healthy adults.”
She shrugged. “Maybe one day I’ll return to it.”
He frowned with the feeling that she wasn’t being as offhand as she pretended, but left it at that. He hated to see anyone give up on their dreams but now was not the time to sort this out. They had too many other things to settle first.
After that, they ate without talking. The casserole was delicious, and so was the chocolate mousse topped with whipped cream she’d made for dessert.
“Leave it,” he said when she went to tidy up.
She grimaced. “I can’t leave all these dirty dishes for your housekeeper.”
One eyebrow slanted. “That’s why I employ her. If you do her job, she won’t have one.” He must remember to tell Lila about his new change in circumstances, though she’d probably guessed something was going on, with Gabrielle’s things in his bedroom, he mused.
Gabrielle’s lips quirked. “That’s true. But let me just put the leftovers away and the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. We can’t leave this sitting here all night.”
“Fine. I’ll help you.” He reached for the empty dishes.
She blinked in surprise. “You will?”
“Of course. I don’t usually leave a mess, either.”
She relaxed into a smile. “So you’re domesticated?” she joked as she started carrying some of the plates back to the kitchen.
He looked at those lips and wanted to kiss the smile right off them. “Sometimes,” he drawled, following her. Then he helped her tidy up, but as soon as they’d finished, he strode over to the entertainment unit in the living room. “Come watch a movie with me.”
“Um…sure.” She followed him more slowly. “Any movie in particular?”
“You choose.” He opened the door of a cabinet to reveal racks of DVDs.
Her eyes widened. “That’s quite a collection.”
“My housekeeper buys a selection for me every couple of months.” He took a seat on the black leather sofa.
Her finely arched brows drew together. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a man who watched movies.”
He shrugged. “I have to unwind sometimes.”
For a few seconds she was silent as if weighing his words, though he wasn’t sure he liked her deciphering him. She’d probably get some idiotic idea that sometimes he felt a sense of aloneness inside this apartment. That sometimes at the end of the day he would like to share a peaceful moment or two with a woman who understood him. He grimaced inwardly. Of course, Gabrielle understood him a bit too much at times for his liking.
She walked over to the collection and began rifling through the DVDs. “What about this one?” she said, holding up a fairly tame thriller that had been a huge success a couple of years ago.
“As long as it doesn’t give you ideas,” he joked, and saw her mouth twitch with amusement before she popped the DVD in and went to sit on the chair opposite.
He patted the space beside him. “Sit next to me.”
She hesitated. Then, “Is that an order?”
He gave a wry smile. She was a challenge, this one. Every step of the way. “No, a request.”
She inclined her head and did as he asked, but still sat a foot away from where he wanted her to be. “Closer,” he murmured.
“I’m fine right here.”
He leaned over and half lifted her next to him. “Closer,” he insisted. “And that’s an order.”
“Damien, I—”
“Shh. The movie’s starting.”
She remained tense for another ten seconds or so, then he could feel her begin to relax slightly, which was just as well because if she didn’t stop arguing he would have to kiss her into submission.
As it was, he would wait to make love to her until after the movie. Oh, he knew he could have her right now, just as he’d done last night on the yacht. Her body was emitting a million little signals that told him she wanted him again.
But like the most delicate tidbit, he would savor her. Call him a masochist, but for five years the memory of this woman had left a burning imprint inside him. Now, to have the very scent of her filling his nostrils, the curve of her bare shoulder beneath his palm, the warmth of her body next to him, was driving him mad again with appreciation and anticipation.
For this woman, he would linger.
Halfway through the movie she kicked off her shoes…and the lingering was over.
“You know,” he murmured, his eyes resting on those beautiful toes. “I find your feet very sexy.”
Her head snapped away from watching the television. Red rushed into her cheeks. “Um…they’re only feet.”
“Not to me. Here. Put them up here on my lap. Let me look at them.”
A humorous gleam showed in her eyes. “You don’t have a foot fetish, do you?”
His mouth tilted in a sardonic grin. “No.” Her feet were just a starting point, gorgeous though they were. He would make love to every inch of her.
Starting with those feet.
“Lean back,” he said, lifting them onto his lap, forcing her into reclining back against the cushions. He began to slowly trace the pads of his fingers over her delicate toes. “These are very feminine.”
She expelled a surprisingly sultry laugh that rippled along his spine. “I would hope so.”
He held up one slender foot. “See this arch? It tells me you’re a sensual person.”
She moistened her lips. “Um…it does?”
“Now if I were to kiss the top of your foot—” he did as he said “—like this.”