The Real Romero(15)

                But she still found herself hesitating, clearing her throat and sitting down at the sleek kitchen table with burning, self-conscious hesitation.

                Would it be inappropriate to ask him for a CV? she wondered. Maybe a few references from women he had happened to be thrown together with inadvertently who had found him to be a decent, honourable man with upstanding moral values?

                ‘The look of joy and satisfaction seems to be missing from your expression.’ Lucas tucked into the pasta, which was as good as anything he had had in any restaurant. He had wondered about the ‘professional chef’ description of herself—had thought that maybe it was a bit of self-congratulation when, in fact, she worked behind the scenes at the local fast food joint—but she was a seriously good cook.

                ‘Well....’ Curiosity got the better of her. ‘How did you manage to do that? I mean when you say done...’

                ‘You’d be surprised at the things I can accomplish when I put my mind to it. Your job here is safe, and you’ll be fully paid for the duration. Even if you decide to leave after two days.’

                Milly’s mouth dropped open and Lucas grinned wryly.

                ‘Admit it. You’re impressed.’

                ‘Wow. You must have an awful lot of influence with the Ramos family.’ A thought struck her and she went bright red and took refuge in her pasta.

                ‘Why do I get the feeling that there’s something on your mind?’ Lucas drawled drily.

                ‘What makes you think that?’

                ‘Maybe it’s because you’ve suddenly turned the colour of puce. Or maybe it’s because you have a face that’s as transparent as a pane of glass. Pick either option. The food’s delicious, by the way. Were it not for the red hair, I would be tempted to think that you have a streak of Italian running through you.’

                ‘Auburn, not red. I don’t like the word “red”,’ Milly automatically asserted, still staring down at her plate.

                ‘Spit it out, Milly of the “auburn not red” hair...’

                ‘Well, you probably wouldn’t like it.’

                Lucas helped himself to more pasta, poured himself another glass of wine and allowed the silence to stretch between them. Eventually, he rescued her from her agonising indecision.

                ‘Trust me, I’m built like a brick wall when it comes to being offended.’ Not that he could think, offhand, of anyone who would dare say something offensive to him. The joys of wealth and power.

                ‘You really are arrogant, aren’t you?’ Milly said distractedly and he delivered her a slashing smile that temporarily knocked her for six. ‘Well, if you must know, I just wondered whether you managed to pull strings because you’re sleeping with Mrs Ramos...’ She said it in one rushed sentence and then held her breath and waited for a reply.

                For a few seconds, Lucas didn’t actually believe what he had just heard and then, when it had sunk in, he wasn’t sure whether to be outraged, amused or incredulous.

                ‘Well...’ She dragged that one syllable out, licking her lips nervously. ‘It makes a weird kind of sense.’

                ‘In what world does it make a weird kind of sense?’

                ‘How else would you be able to get me my job and ensure that I get paid for it?’