at
his words she looked a little hurt. “I mean, you look like you can defend
yourself,” he said quickly, trying to do damage control.
“It’s okay,” she said, her voice punctuated
with a sigh. “Part of the territory, being taller than most other women.
People see you as a whole lot tougher than you actually are.”
“I didn’t mean that-”
“It’s okay,” she said again, her
voice insistent. “Let’s just eat.”
That shut Stone up for a while.
This was something she was obviously sensitive about and pressing her further
would only make things worse. As much as he found every inch of her to be a
tantalizing treat now was not the time to tell her that. She would think he
was just trying to make her feel better. Great going, Stone, you just put
your size twelve foot in it. Wanting to melt her frosty mood, Stone turned
on the CD player and the sounds of Shania Twain's 'From This Moment' filled the
room. The soothing sounds should calm her down. As he went to pull out her
chair he saw that her mouth was just a little less tight and the furrow between
her brows gone. Whew.
He lifted the white wine from its
bed of ice and poured her a glass. Then he got the meal from the oven – salmon
in a light lemon sauce with wild rice and a vegetable medley. Indie’s eyes
widened at the sight of the elegantly prepared trays. “Cook did this?”
“Yep. A man of many talents. He
can serve the Queen of England, if called on.”
Indie nodded. “I have no doubt.”
After that, it was as if that
awkward moment had never happened. They fell into easy conversation, with
Indie plying him with questions about his family back in Canada. He told her
about his older sister who lived in Vancouver and was a professor of Medieval
History at the university there, and his younger brother, also a businessman,
who had moved to Australia with his young wife and infant son. And then there
were his mom and dad, stalwarts in the Toronto community, members of the
Chamber of Commerce and philanthropists in their own right.
“The Hudson wing at the Toronto
City Hospital is named after them."
“So that’s where you get it from,
this philanthropy thing."
He shrugged. “I do my own thing.”
“Yes, you do,” she said, her voice
a sultry whisper that made Stone wonder if they were still talking about
philanthropy. Somehow, it didn’t sound like it.
Indie had leaned forward, her
elbows on the table, her hands folded in front of her, her chin resting on
those folded hands. And she was looking at him with half closed eyes, her lips
slightly parted.
And if she kept that up she was
going to get a whole lot more than dinner tonight.
Stone clenched and unclenched his
hands under the table. If Indie only knew what he wanted to do right now. Then
again, maybe she already did, and that was why she was playing temptress
tonight. And he wanted to make a move, no doubt about that. But he had to be
sure.
“All right,” Stone said, picking up
his napkin and giving a last swipe at his lips, “looks like we’re done here.”
He got up and held out his hand to Indie. “Why don’t we head to the living
room? There’s something I want to show you.”
“Oh. All right.” Indie took his
hand and rose to stand beside him.
It took a whole lot of willpower
for him not to drag her into his arms and kiss her breathless. But no, now was
not the time.
Stone led Indie to the small sofa
in the living room then crouched down in front of the VCR on the TV stand.
“Old movies,” Indie guessed.
“Yes, but not just any old movies.
My old movies.” Stone slid the first tape in, pressed play then went to sit at
the other end of the couch. “These are recordings of my earlier trips to South
Africa. I made a lot of cultural mistakes and maybe you can learn from some of
them. And I had a lot of fun.”
They settled back in the chair and
watched shots of Stone arriving in