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EIGHT

      TO Eddie’s inevitable query about her night with Jake Freedman, she breezily answered, ‘Great food, great sex, and marriage is not on the menu for either of us so don’t worry about my becoming a victim of secret agendas. That’s definitely out!’

      Later in the day, she settled her mother’s concern with, ‘It won’t become a serious relationship, Mum. It was just a dinner date, which I might or might not repeat.’ With a mischievous smile, she added, ‘Depends on how good the restaurant is if he asks me out again.’

      It made her mother laugh. ‘Oh, you and food!’

      And she cut off her father’s probe into the personal connection by regaling him with details of every spicy dish she’d tasted, virtually dismissing Jake’s company as pleasant enough but relatively unimportant.

      However, it was easier to establish in other people’s minds that an involvement with Jake was not a big issue than it was to convince herself. Life simply wasn’t the same as before she met him. He dominated her thoughts, especially at night when she was alone in bed, her body restless with memories of their intense intimacy. It was impossible to block him out for long and she grew angry and frustrated with herself for not being able to set him at a sensible distance, especially as day followed day without any contact from him.

      He hadn’t given her his mobile telephone number.

      He obviously had a silent land number at his Woollahra home because his name wasn’t listed in the telephone directory.

      No way could she call him at work because her father might get to hear about it.

      Control of any connection between them was all on his side and she had no control whatsoever over yearning to be reconnected. Which was turning her into a stupid, love-sick cow and she hated being like that, hated it so much when he did finally call her on Friday afternoon, the zoom of pleasure at hearing his voice was speared through by resentment at his power to affect her so deeply. She only grudgingly managed a polite ‘Hi!’ to his greeting.

      He didn’t seem to notice any coldness in her response, rolling straight into the business of the call without any personal enquiries about her or her well-being. ‘I’ve been trying all week to book us a table at one of your top restaurants for tomorrow night. Can’t be done. They’re all booked up and there hasn’t been any cancellations. However, I have managed to get us a table at Peter Gilmore’s Quay restaurant for next Saturday night. Is that okay with you?’

      Peter Gilmore’s Quay—listed as one of the top fifty restaurants in the world! It was a totally irresistible invitation. A rush of excited enthusiasm flooded over all other feelings.

      ‘Fantastic!’ tripped off her tongue. ‘I saw his amazing Snow Egg dessert on a television show. It started with a layer of guava purée mixed with whipped cream. On top of that was guava-flavoured crushed ice. Then a meringue shaped like an egg and an inside that was creamy custard apple. It was topped off with a thin layer of toffee melted over it. Absolutely to die for!’

      His laughter flowed through her like a fountain of joy. She couldn’t help smiling, couldn’t help feeling happy.

      ‘Shall we meet there at seven o’clock? Same as last time?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Great! See you then, Laura.’

      Click!

      That was it from him.

      The happiness deflated into a rueful sigh. It was what they had agreed upon—meetings for an adventure into fine dining. Jake probably thought of any sexual follow-up as icing on the cake. And she should, too. She couldn’t fault him for not suggesting they do something else together this weekend. The problem of wanting more was entirely hers and she had to deal with it, get over it.

      On the whole, Laura thought she managed that fairly well over the following week. Probably knowing they had a definite date to meet made it easier to concentrate on other things. She promised herself that at this meeting she would not expect an extension of their time together beyond the night, nor hope for it. After all, it was better for her to maintain her independence and not become slavishly besotted with the man.

      Despite all her sensible reasoning, she could not control the fizz of excitement as she prepared for the big evening out. In an attempt to lessen its importance to her and show Jake she was taking this journey as casually as he was, she chose a far less dressy outfit—her best jeans, which were acceptable almost anywhere, and a peasant-style top with some wild costume jewellery she’d bought at the markets. Beaded sandals completed the look she wanted—fun, not seriously formal or serious anything else.

      Eddie had been warned she would be staying overnight at his apartment again. Before leaving home she deliberately picked a yellow rose, not a red one, from her mother’s garden. It was a Pal Joey rose and it had a fabulous scent. Jake might not remember asking her to bring one to their next dinner together but it definitely showed she was keeping to her side of their deal.

      The ferry ride across the harbour from Mosman to Circular Quay brought her close to the site of the restaurant. There was an excited lilt in her step as she walked around to the overseas passenger terminal where all the big cruise ships docked. Jake would be waiting for her inside Quay on the upper level and tonight would undoubtedly be brilliant all over again.

      For Jake it had taken rigid discipline to wait through the fortnight before indulging himself with Laura again. It would only be a week next time, and the next, and the next, provided, of course, she wanted to go on with it. Why shouldn’t he have as much of her as he could within reasonable limits? As long as he kept the end in mind, his involvement with her would not get in the way of what he had to do. It was no good wishing she wasn’t Alex Costarella’s daughter. Nothing could change that.

      She walked into the restaurant looking like a wonderfully vivid gypsy with her black curly hair all fluffed out around her shoulders, lots of colourful beads around her neck and a peasant blouse that clung to the lush fullness of her breasts. Tight jeans accentuated the rest of her sexy curves and the instant kicks to his heart and groin told Jake she was having too big an impact on him.

      He shouldn’t have started this.

      Shouldn’t be going on with it.

      But she smiled at him as he stood up from their table to greet her and a rush of pleasure had him smiling back. Just before she reached him, her hand dived into the bag she carried and brought out a full-blown yellow rose.

      ‘For you to smell,’ she said, her blue eyes sparkling a flirtatious challenge.

      It surprised him, delighted him, and the pleasure she brought him intensified as he took the rose and lifted it to his nose. ‘Mmmh…I shall always connect this glorious scent with you.’

      She laughed. ‘And I shall always connect glorious food with you. I can’t wait to salivate through Peter Gilmore’s menu.’

      He laughed and quickly held out her chair with an invitational wave. ‘At your service.’

      Once they were both seated, a waiter arrived, handing them menus, and Jake asked him to bring a glass of water for the rose to keep it fresh.

      As soon as they were left alone together, Laura leaned forward with another heart-kicking smile. ‘I’m glad you like it.’

      He grinned. ‘I have plans for this rose.’

      ‘What plans?’

      ‘For later tonight.’ Like rubbing it all over her skin and breathing in the scent as he kissed her wherever he wanted. ‘I’ve booked us a room at the Park Hyatt at Campbell Cove…?.’

      ‘Another hotel,’ she broke in with a frown.

      ‘My place is still a mess,’ he explained with an apologetic grimace. ‘Can’t take you there, Laura.’

      He never would. He had to keep her separate from his real life.

      ‘But

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