‘Liar!’ Her laughter was warm and spontaneous, a reflection of the woman. ‘Tell me why I chose it.’
‘Er, whim?’ Her eyes narrowed and her chin came up. He still loved that look.
‘I’ve just given you some huge hints on how to buy perfume for a woman. Huge! You could have at least paid attention.’
‘I did pay attention.’
‘Alrighty, then.’ Her hands went to her hips. ‘Choose one for me.’
Nick stared at Hallie, stared at the perfumes, all two hundred odd bottles of the stuff, and nearly broke out in a cold sweat. ‘I could use a hint,’ he said.
Hallie moved down the counter again, to yet another cluster of bottles, her hand hovering over one particular bottle before finally picking it up. ‘Here. This is one my mother used to wear; it brings back some wonderful memories of her. It’s warm, elegant, beautiful. I love it, but I don’t wear it.’
‘You call that a hint?’
‘Big one.’ Her voice was grave, but her eyes were laughing.
Nick sighed heavily, took the perfume her mother used to wear out of her hand and sniffed. He knew that smell, loved its memories because Clea wore it too. It wasn’t Hallie; she was right. But it was close.
He attacked the problem systematically, working his way through the entire cluster of perfumes in front of him and rejecting all but three bottles. He took his time with these, undecided, before making his final choice and handing it to her. ‘This one.’
‘Are you sure?’ she teased. ‘How do you know? Because I swear your nose went on strike ten bottles ago.’
‘Smell it,’ he urged.
She took a deep sniff. It had some of the same ingredients as her mother’s perfume, the same warmth in the base, but it was different too. More exotic and youthful. More vibrant.
‘Well?’ he asked gruffly.
‘I like it.’
‘How much do you like it?’
‘A lot.’
Nick’s relieved smile was boyishly endearing and Hallie felt her heart stutter. He was a curious mixture, Nicholas Cooper. Smooth as silk one minute, as sweet as Friday’s child the next. ‘Promise me you’ll wear it for me tonight,’ he murmured.
Yep, just as smooth as silk. ‘Now I’m going to choose one for you,’ she told him.
‘Don’t!’ he said, clearly horrified by the notion. ‘Walk with me through the alleyways for half an hour. That’s all I want. Let me show you the Hong Kong I like best.’
She could do that.
She loved doing just that, because it was here that she found what had been missing in the spotless airport and glittering department stores; here she found the hawker stalls and the food carts; the scent of yesteryear and the bustle of an exotic, vibrant culture.
This was the Hong Kong Nick liked best? She should have guessed. Nick would always seek out the real, add a dash of what if and colour it magical. It was part of his charm.
What kind of woman would he choose when he finally did take a wife? Hallie wondered. Would she laugh with him and delight in the boy beneath the man? Would she be worldly and elegant? An asset to his business interests? Would he choose a real corporate wife? Hallie was so preoccupied with her thoughts she almost fell over Nick as he knelt down to examine a tiny street urchin’s meagre fake watch selection that had been lined up with military precision on a dirty scrap of towel.
‘Cartier,’ he said, grinning up at her. ‘Bargain. You want one?’
Dammit, she knew this would happen. She was falling for him. ‘That one,’ she said, pointing towards a plain-faced gold watch in the middle of the row. ‘Does it work?’
‘The hands are moving. That’s always a good sign,’ he said as he handed over enough money to buy ten fake watches and waved away the change. ‘Where to now?’ he said, handing her the watch.
‘Back to the Teys’ if this watch is correct. I have to be back by five-thirty if I want the hairdresser to style my hair.’
‘And do you?’
‘Absolutely. I’m off to a ball in a designer gown and there’ll be dancing and music and a countdown to midnight. I want the works. Tonight I’m going to feel like Cinderella.’
‘Does that mean I have to be your Prince Charming?’
‘You can try to be my Prince Charming,’ she countered with a smile. They were standing beside a busy road and a taxi was heading their way in the centre lane. Nick saw it about the same as time she did and stepped to the side of the pavement and raised his hand. The taxi swerved abruptly and shoehorned itself into the side lane to the accompaniment of blaring horns and rude gestures.
‘I think he’s seen us,’ said Nick.