“You’re rather judgmental, aren’t you?” he said, crossing his arms.
For a full thirty seconds she gaped from that statement, it was so inaccurate. “Of course I’m not.”
He studied her, but she couldn’t tell what he saw. What surprised her was what she wanted him to see: an exciting, smart, sexy woman.
Which was so wrong. She didn’t need anyone to think of her as sexy. She just wanted Ben to love her. She pulled her sweater collar up. “I don’t need your approval, Joe Winslow.”
“We have a lot in common, Em Shepherd. The only difference is that I’ve learned to put the chip on my shoulder down.”
“I don’t have a chip.” She quickly checked her shoulder, just to be sure.
His mouth quirked. “Would it surprise you to know that my family was so poor that my brothers and I used to steal bread from the baker?”
She blinked in shock. “What?”
“Of course, I found out years later that the baker was letting us steal the bread. He was a nice man to let us keep our dignity, such as it was.” Smiling softly, he sipped his wine.
“But you went to Oxford. If your family was so poor, the odds against being accepted were high.”
“Yes, but I was determined. I put myself through school on my brains and fists. You should be able to understand that.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Like recognizes like, Em. I know where you’ve come from, because I’ve been there myself, and I respect what you’ve done to change your life.”
“Working as a receptionist?” she asked with a sarcastic lift of her brow. “That’s hardly the same as becoming a partner in one of London’s top firms.”
“To each his own.”
The waiter returned. Em glanced down and picked the first thing that caught her eye. She’d have expected Joe to be fussy, but he ordered quickly.
He waited until the waiter left to ask, “What do you see in Bob?”
It took her a moment to understand who he meant. “Ben.”
“He’s not worthy of you,” he said as if he didn’t hear her. “He’s an idiot.”
“He isn’t.” She herself heard the lack of conviction in her voice. “He’s a pillar in the community.”
“He can’t see the treasure he has in front of him, and that makes him an idiot.” Joe frowned at her from behind his wine glass. “Really, Em, I’m beginning to question your good sense.”
Eyes narrowed, she lifted her chin. “That’s only because I’ve refused to fall at your feet.”
“So far.” He grinned wickedly. “I’m holding out hope.”
She snorted again.
“In any case,” he continued, “you’re much too passionate to be satisfied with the sort of bland existence Ben will offer you. You’ll combust and take him with you. You can’t seriously see yourself toiling in dirt for him, can you?”
“I can tend his garden.”
“But you don’t like doing it.”
She wasn’t going to confirm that. “Why do you say that?”
“When you dislike something, you get two lines of discernment between your eyebrows.”
She put a hand to her forehead. “I do?”
He smiled like the Sphinx.
Their food arrived, thankfully. It gave her the perfect excuse to ignore him while she pulled her thoughts together.
The bad thing was that the meal wasn’t long enough for her to compose herself. Normally she had enough willpower to withstand temptation, but Joe was tearing down her defenses. She pushed her empty plate away, perplexed.
“Dessert?” he offered wickedly as if he could read her mind.
She crossed her arms. “I don’t do dessert.”
“Not today, but one day.” He reached across the table, cupped her head, and leaned forward to kiss her.
She told herself it was surprise that made her part her lips, not because she desperately wanted it.
He took advantage of the opportunity to taste her—briefly, deliciously. Then he drew back.
She ran her tongue along her lips, still feeling the tingle of his. She knew he’d quickly pulled away to leave her wanting more.
It’d worked.
And now she also knew that kissing Joe Winslow was like heaven.
“Shall we?” he said, leaving money on the table and pushing his chair back.
Shall we … what? Kiss more? Go someplace and get naked? Make mind-blowing love?
She shook her head. No. No, they shan’t, because she needed sweet Ben, not wicked Joe.
Only she liked wicked Joe.
She gaped at him. She liked him. She liked flirting with him and verbally sparring, but she also liked sitting with him and getting to know him.