“You do have a very distinctive voice,” he said, and it sounded as though he was smiling through the words.
Smiling with pleasure!
A wild, wonderful hope danced through her mind. “You asked me to call,” she reminded him.
“It’s come later than I expected. I thought you weren’t going to contact me. I’m glad you have.”
It was pleasure. Warm pleasure. A smile burst across Erin’s face. “Mrs Harper didn’t come until five o’clock. She’s only just left.”
“Ah!” The sound of satisfaction. “There must be a lot to tell me and I do want to know all of it. Would you join me for dinner, Erin? I’ve been with Dave Harper most of the afternoon, getting his side of the story to a good lawyer. I need to hear your impressions of his wife.”
“Dinner…” she repeated dazedly. The invitation had come so fast her head was spinning.
“Regardless of what people might have told you about me since our meeting in the park, I promise I’m not the big bad wolf, and you don’t have to fear my gobbling you up on the spot,” he assured her with dry mockery.
“Right!” she said, though the idea of being gobbled up by Peter Ramsey had actually sent her pulse-rate zooming. “Where and when?” she asked, trying to sound efficient and not too eager.
“Whatever suits you, Erin.”
Which lobbed the ball straight into her court.
Was it a test of how much she would try to screw out of him?
What did he expect her to choose?
Best to go for her own comfort zone, she swiftly decided, given she was in an absolute tizz about meeting him again. The intimidation of a ritzy restaurant would only make her more nervy.
“Are you okay with a downmarket place?” she asked, wondering if he preferred the privileges that went with being recognised in trendy surroundings.
“No problem,” he assured her.
So he didn’t need ego-stroking.
“Do you like Thai food?”
“Fine with me.”
He was being very accommodating.
Glowing happily, Erin gave directions. “Along Oxford Street, between the end of Hyde Park and Taylor Square, there’s a little restaurant called Titanic Thai. I could meet you there at seven-thirty.”
“Should I book a table?”
“No. I’ll drop in and ask them to keep me one.”
“You live nearby?”
“More or less,” she answered vaguely, not wanting to divulge too much about herself at this point. “I’ll see you there then?”
“Seven-thirty, Oxford Street, a Thai restaurant called Titanic but it’s only little,” he said in a tone of amusement.
“That’s it,” she confirmed and rang off, feeling pleased with herself for not only seizing the chance he’d held out, but for taking command of proceedings, as well.
Her feet wanted to skip all the way to the bus stop.
Got her!
Peter’s hand clenched in exhilarating triumph.
Then he laughed at himself for being so absurdly excited over another meeting with a woman whose life was so remote from his, they’d probably have nothing to talk about apart from Dave Harper’s miserable situation.
Nevertheless, that bit of reality did not dim his desire to experience all there was to know of Erin Lavelle. He’d been in the mood to embrace the wildly improbable ever since she’d smiled at him at the pedestrian crossing, and tonight was another step in the same vein. Knowing who he was, she could have taken him for an expensive dinner at a top class restaurant. He wouldn’t have cared if she had, but he was delighted with her choice. It was in keeping with this whole encounter—totally off-the-wall.
“Titanic Thai, here I come!” he said out loud, grinning to himself as he bounded up the stairs to the master bedroom of his Bondi Beach apartment. Shower, shave, change of clothes, get to Taylor Square, scout the restaurant…tonight he was going to get the princess with the magic rainbow smile and the heart of gold!
Erin knew that the most sensible course was to play it cool with Peter Ramsey, not look as if she expected anything from him, turn up in jeans and pretend she wasn’t madly wishing he found her too desirable to pass up. Their lives were too different to envisage any serious relationship between them.
On the other hand, she’d never been so captivated by a man. Even if it could only be a mad fling with him…
Temptation wove its own more exciting path around common sense and was in full swing by the time she reached the Hyde Park apartment hotel where she invariably stayed while in Sydney. It was in easy walking distance of the Thai restaurant where she had frequently dined.
As she showered, washed and blow-dried her hair into a silky black mane that rippled over her shoulders, her mind moved into a totally reckless whirl of wanting to make something happen between her and Peter Ramsey. Her hands reached into the clothes cupboard and pulled out the lemon, lime and green dress. It was a gorgeous dress. She loved the colours and the colours loved her. It was also a wicked little dress. In fact, her London editor, Richard Long, who regularly tried to move their relationship into a sexual one, had described it as a bed-me dress.