Abbey grinned. It was spectacular—the sort of smile that changed a pretty face into an extraordinary one. It was also highly contagious. He couldn't help but grin back.
"You should've had a holiday while you were there," she said. "You know, added another week at the end after your business was finished. That's what I would have done if I were ever lucky enough to go to Paris for work."
"Easier said than done. I had to fly back to Sydney. It's difficult to be away from the office for long."
"Your boss sounds like a task master."
Nick laughed. "He is. But that's okay, I like what I do. It's my passion."
She frowned. "Strange passion perhaps. If you had a hobby you'd learn to relax a little more. You could take up yoga or bush walking."
Nick crossed his arms on the table. This woman was getting a little presumptuous telling him what he should and shouldn't do. And who said he wasn't relaxed? He was—just enough to keep his staff happy without allowing them to walk all over him.
"I have responsibilities to my employees. I can't just take time off here and there when I feel like it."
She shrugged. "I don't see why not. All work and no play makes Damien a very dull man."
She thought he was dull?
"I wasn't always a workaholic," he said defensively, unsure why he suddenly felt the urge to correct her impression of him. "I used to be pretty wild when I was younger."
"Really? Tell me about it."
He laughed. "You're nosy, aren't you?"
She shrugged two deliciously naked shoulders. "I'm just being friendly."
Friendly. Right. Small talk with the man who owed her money, a tactic to lull him into a comfortable mood. She knew exactly what she was doing. Well, she could forget it. He wasn't about to fall for her tricks.
"I think we'll drop that topic of conversation," he said.
Abbey sat back in her chair, surveying him through unblinking eyes.
"Yes, Sir!"
Nick flinched at the mocking tone.
"Let's talk about something you don't mind talking about then," she said, a smile twitching her plump, kissable lips.
Her smile had an amazing ability to relax him. Nick Delaware wasn't used to being relaxed. The feeling washed over his skin like a warm caress.
"Like what?"
"Where else have you been? Other than France, I mean."
He shrugged. "You name it, I've probably been there."
"Wow. Really?" She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Either you're incredibly rich or you've got a great job."
He laughed. She was sassy; he had to give her that. He ignored the first part of her question.
"The job takes me places but I never really get to see them. Not the way I want to."
"Which is?"
"Slowly. I'd rather take my time. Spend a few weeks in a village in Tuscany or on a felucca floating down the Nile." He shrugged. "All I get to see is the inside of a hotel room and an office block or two. Not very interesting."
It wasn't entirely a lie. He'd traveled the world in his early twenties thanks to a trust fund and family money. But since starting his own business investing in companies, his trips were little more than boardroom marathons.
"Ooh, yes, Egypt," Abbey crooned. "Another place I want to visit. I love ancient history. I even thought about becoming an archaeologist, but it meant an extra three years and I'd already had enough study after finishing my Arts degree."
Nick raised his eyebrows just as Abbey's drew together. She coughed and looked away.
But Nick wasn't letting that one slide.
"You went to university? What did you major in? Sensual massage?"
Abbey's lips twitched, fighting a grin. Eventually the grin won.
"Very funny," she said, taking a sip of wine.
He opened his mouth to ask what she really majored in, but she held up a finger.
"That topic's off limits."
Like hell.
"No. I want to know more."
"I said it's off limits. Got it?" Her voice was low, her jaw clenched.
Nick didn't like being refused. He glared at her with the look that usually withered opposition across a boardroom table. She didn't flinch. She glared right back.
"Guess it's back to travel again, then," he said, attempting to clear the air.
She nodded stiffly and sat back. She looked flustered. Good. He liked knowing he'd at least managed that, considering she'd already succeeded in making him lose his self-control last night. Fair was fair.
"Antarctica," he said. "That's the one place I don't want to go. Too cold."
Abbey's sour mood melted and she laughed—a throaty laugh that bubbled up from deep within. God, it was fantastic the way she threw back her head, laughing with her whole body. He'd never met anyone who enjoyed his conversation so much. It was a novel experience—and kind of satisfying.
"Way too cold for me too," she said. "I prefer the heat."
"Then you'd be happy today."
"Well, today was exceptional, even by Melbourne's standards. Although I do like it like this. It reminds me of summers by the pool or down the beach when I was a kid."
Her voice drifted off dreamily.
Nick could picture her—sitting on a beach in a straw hat and bikini.
A small white bikini that revealed her rosy nipples when she emerged from the water.
He swallowed and glanced at Abbey. She was grinning at him.
Damn it. How did she know exactly what he was thinking?
"I take it from that look on your face that you like the beach too?" Her eyes danced mischievously.
He nodded and shifted.
Bad move. His erection brushed against his thighs, growing harder.
"Are you ready to order, sir, madam?"
A short, balding waiter stood beside Nick, handed them menus, then scuttled away.
Nick was grateful for the distraction.