back hurriedly into her corner, agonisingly conscious that her enthusiasm could have been misleading. She didn’t like to give a man the wrong signals when she wasn’t planning to follow through, and the conviction that he was probably now expecting her to go to bed with him that night forced her to tilt back her head and say stiffly, ‘I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression but I’m not sleeping with you tonight.’
In receipt of that frank assurance, Sev stared back at her with wondering amusement firing his spectacular golden eyes. ‘I don’t know what sort of a man you think I am but I never put out on a first date.’
CHAPTER THREE
THE HELPLESS GIGGLE that forced its way up through Amy’s tight throat erupted and she gasped for a breath of air before grabbing her drink and taking a hard swallow. Sev patted her gently on the back.
‘Relax,’ he murmured smoothly. ‘No expectations here.’
Instead of being irritated by her warning, he had chosen to defuse her tension, had taken it in good part without embarrassing her. She smiled at him, her fears and insecurities laid to rest.
‘So now you know all about me, why don’t you tell me about you?’ Amy dared, feeling surer of her ground.
His tangled background was a can of worms Sev had no intention of revealing, but he parted with the basic facts of his parentage in that his mother was Italian and his father Greek but that his parents had broken up before he was born and had married other people.
‘That must’ve been challenging,’ Amy commented, studying him with earnest violet eyes, and the luminous colour of them in the dim light only seemed to enhance her flawless creamy skin. ‘I mean, having two fathers...’
‘I didn’t have two. My stepfather wasn’t interested in taking on that role,’ Sev divulged grudgingly. ‘And I didn’t meet my birth father until I had grown up.’
‘Oh...’ she breathed, glorious eyes rounding. ‘I didn’t have a father at all. He didn’t want anything to do with me. Where did you go to school?’
‘A northern boarding school when I was five.’
‘Five’s awfully young to leave home,’ Amy chipped in, her surprise unhidden.
‘I managed,’ Sev told her, reflecting that was when he had first begun learning the power of self-sufficiency. As the only one of three children sent to boarding school, he had appreciated early on that he was the cuckoo in the family nest and he had stopped trying to change things, accepting the status quo until he was old enough to choose his own path.
‘I can’t imagine how,’ Amy admitted with a faint shiver. ‘I mean, my mum wasn’t the milk-and-cookies sort but she was there for me when I was little.’
For a split second, Sev strove to picture his mother doing anything as maternal as offering comfort food to a child and he almost laughed at the concept, for Lady Aiken had never been a hands-on parent. At the same time, he was marvelling at how soft-hearted Amy could be and belatedly recognised that her chosen career looking after injured and homeless animals should have forewarned him, because that was in no way a glamorous role.
Keen to lighten the mood, he added, ‘When I was older I was sent to an Italian school and I enjoyed those years. My mother had cousins in the area, and I got to know some Italian relatives. I was able to go home to them at weekends and I was always made welcome.’
‘It still sounds rather bleak and lonely to me,’ Amy told him softly, studying him with troubled eyes.
And all of a sudden, Sev was wondering why he was even having such a conversation with her when he never talked about himself. Why on earth did she keep on asking such curious questions? He could not recall ever having similar chats on a first date. Women asked what age he had been when he made his first million or when he had lost his virginity and with whom, seeking information about his exploits and achievements rather than concentrating on the more personal stuff. Her curiosity about his childhood was oddly touching. He reached for her hand, strangely entranced by her small, slim fingers. ‘I still don’t have your phone number,’ he told her, signalling the bar for fresh drinks. ‘And you’re not drinking your cocktail. Don’t you like it?’
Amy dug out her phone and asked for his number and then sent him a text. ‘I’ve had enough to drink