"Who says I have a weakness?" he asked.
"Everyone has one."
"Even lovely blondes?"
"I don't know about any other blonde, but I definitely have a weakness."
"Do tell," he invited.
"Forget it, buddy. We were talking about you," she said.
Knowing about his past wouldn't reveal any weakness. To be fair, he doubted he had one. He knew that only if he genuinely cared for something or feared losing it would he then be vulnerable. Therefore, he had nothing to lose.
"Well, my mother and father were very busy people. Mother had her charity work and Father was consumed with trying to please Grandfather on his quest for revenge against your family."
"Surely they must have made time for you," she said.
He could see this turning into a sob story if he wasn't careful, and a woman as softhearted as Cari would eat it up. For a minute he weighed using her emotions to his advantage, but discarded that thought. He didn't need to cheat or prey on her senses to win. "There were the usual family functions. But we all lived our own lives. It worked for us. Sorry I sounded bitter about charities."
"It's okay. I do give money to charities-more than I care to say-but I don't volunteer. I spend most of my free time at home or shopping on the internet."
"Truly? I thought you were more social than that," he said.
"I used to be, but lately, what with you and your cousins gunning for our business, I've had other things to concentrate on."
"I can't regret it," he said.
"The chance to finally get one up on my grandfather?" she asked.
Sort of, but for him it was more about winning than settling an old debt. "Not at all. I'm glad we won so that I can spend more time with you."
She rolled her eyes. "It's not like you were knocking on my door and I sent you away. Why this sudden interest in me?"
It was the one question he didn't know how to answer. Not even to himself. He could only say after being so long in Australia and away from everything in the U.S., he'd had a chance to realize that he didn't necessarily have the same agenda as he used to.
"Maybe it's you."
"Yeah, right. Excuse me if I don't buy that."
"Well, tonight it is. I intended to pump you for business info-"
"Liar. You said yourself no business."
"I meant originally, smarty-pants. But once I saw you tonight, I forgot about everything but our night together and regretted I didn't stay."
She tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear, where it simply curled back against her cheek again. She nibbled her lower lip and then sighed. "It would have been complicated."
"Definitely, but I'm very good at managing complications."
"Oh, I think this one would have thrown even you," she said.
"Which one?" he asked. He had the feeling sometimes that they were having two different conversations. Part of that he could easily attribute to the fact that she was a woman and he a man and they just communicated differently. But there was more to it than that. Maybe her secrets?
"Us staying together after our night," she said. "Wasn't that what you were talking about?"
"Yes, but I meant because my cousins wouldn't understand it."
"Fraternizing with the enemy," she said on a wistful sigh. "That always sounds so romantic until you have to answer to your sisters."
He laughed. "Yes, it would have been difficult. Maybe I did us a favor by leaving."
"There is no us," she reminded him gently. "This is dinner, not a romantic date."
"That kiss in the conference room says otherwise."
"It had been a while since I'd kissed a guy. Don't feel special," she said.
Too late, he thought. He already did. There was something about her and her damned smile and her kisses that made him feel like the only man in her world.
"I'm wounded."
"Ha," she said, taking another sip of her wine. "It will take a lot more than one comment to put a dent in that ego."
"Why do you think so?"
"You walk into my office building and my conference room bold as brass as if nothing had happened between us. You tell me how you are going to dismantle my staff, kiss my socks off and then tell me we are having dinner together. How is that anything other than colossal ego?"
He took another swallow of wine to keep her from seeing his smile. His father had always said that Dec had more confidence than smarts. "I can't say it's all ego. You are here with me tonight after all."
"Touché."
"Makes it hard for a man not to feel special," he said. He wasn't looking for anything permanent with Cari. He knew himself well enough to know that now was the only place he was comfortable living-he didn't dwell on the past or long for the future.
* * *
After they finished their meal, Cari excused herself to go to the ladies' room and called her sister to check on DJ. She knew that Jessi would have been long gone and Emma would be alone with Sammy and DJ. It was eight-thirty, which was the time she usually settled onto the couch with her iPad and online shopped while her baby slept in her arms. But she knew Emma wasn't going to hold DJ all night the way she did.
"How's he doing?"
"He's restless. He just keeps calling for you," Emma said. "I thought this was his usual bedtime."
"I hold him until he goes to sleep," Cari said.
"That's what I was afraid of. Sam's piled up some pillows on the nursery floor and is reading to him."
"I didn't know he could read," she said. Her nephew was only three.
"Well, he mostly just flips the pages of the book and makes up a story to go with the pictures. Right now Green Eggs and Ham involves a badly cooked breakfast."
Cari laughed and felt a little pang as she missed her own little guy and her nephew. "Sammy is so good to him."
"He's wanted a little brother for a while now," Emma said. "This was supposed to be the year for that."
"I'm sorry," Cari said. No one had expected Helio to die so young. His death had been a shock to everyone. And Emma had retreated into full corporate-executive mode. To be honest, most of the time the only one who saw the human side of her sister was Sam.
"It's okay. How's dinner? Did he let anything slip?"
"Dinner is fine. We're going to have a nightcap at the marina. Will you be okay to stay?"
"Yes. As a matter of fact, I think I'll take DJ to my place. Maybe the car drive will put him to sleep. You can either swing by and get him in the morning or I will bring him to the nursery at Infinity Games."
"Okay. I'll miss him tonight."
"You'll be fine. Concentrate on getting some answers from Dec about what he plans to do next."
"I will do my best," she said. "I might stop by tonight."
"Whatever you decide. Take care."
"You, too," she said. After disconnecting the call, she touched up her lipstick and fixed her hair before heading back to the table.
She noticed that Dec was on the phone as she approached and hesitated, but then remembered what Emma had said. She needed to find out what he was doing with the company. But to be honest, her heart wasn't in it. He said goodbye as she approached so she didn't get any information.
"Ready to go?" he asked.
She nodded as he got to his feet. He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the tables toward the front of the restaurant. She could obviously have walked through the place without his hand on her, but a part of her liked it. Liked the heat from his body that seeped through the fabric of her dress. Liked the sprawl of his fingers over her back. Liked … well, just liked the feel of his hands on her.
She shivered as he rubbed his forefinger back and forth over the zipper that went down the center of her back.
"Chilly?"
She shook her head. Then realized she should have said yes.
"I've missed touching you, Cari," he said, leaning close so that his words carried no further than her ears.
She'd missed it, too. She stopped walking and stepped away from his touch. "You didn't have to."
"I've apologized."
"I know, but that doesn't give you a clean slate. I should just go."
"I thought you wanted to talk," he said.
"I do. But I can't if you're going to touch me."
"I was being polite," he said.
She knew she was overreacting and it wasn't totally his fault. It had been too long since a man had touched her and she'd been hungry for it. She wasn't sure how much was her hormones and how much could be attributed to Dec.