is supposed to go. It must be the cheese. I do love me some cheese.
‘I think that’s up to you.’
‘I thought I was on the clock.’ His laughter, deep and rich, resounds across the space, so much so that I find myself playing my response back in my head. Nope, sounded correct; on the clock, not on the . . . you know what I mean. ‘What’s so funny?’
A deep breath. A sigh. His gaze falling over me, trailing fire in its wake. ‘Any night spent with you is cause for celebration.’
‘Maybe you’re just trying to get me drunk.’
‘Tempting, but no.’ His eyes, dark and glossy, dance with mischief.
‘I shouldn’t imagine you’ve ever had to get a woman tipsy to persuade her into bed.’
‘I don’t want a woman in my bed. I want you. Not just in my bed but my life.’
I glance around me, wondering how I can change the subject, wondering if I really want to when he takes pity on me, changing the subject as the waiter appears with champagne on a silver tray accompanied by two tall flutes. It’s like he read my mind. With a murmured thanks, Remy takes the bottle, the man drifting into the night like a ghost.
‘Have you visited the casino yet?’
‘Not yet,’ I answer, sure he means the Casino de Monte-Carlo, an icon of Monaco. He presses a napkin to the cork before beginning to twist the bottle. The cork releases with a decadent hiss.
‘You’ve done that before.’
‘Once or twice.’ The ends of his hair turn the colour of newly minted pennies as reaches across the table, splashing the effervescent bubbles into a glass. ‘I have a few other tricks I can show you sometime.’
‘Uh-huh.’
He cuts a wedge of pale coloured cheese, coupling it with a torn morsel of bread. ‘I once opened a bottle with my ski after a particularly exhilarating run, and another time with a sabre.’
When it becomes clear the cheese is for me, I open my mouth to accept it, a need sticky and sweet working its way down to my belly at his expression. I pause to chew as he takes his seat again.
‘Explain, please.’ I cover my mouth with my hand as I swallow, my gaze sliding from his. ‘Let’s go with the sabre first, because everyone carries one of those.’
‘A little like purple sex-toys?’ If this isn’t a perfect example of how different we are, I don’t know what is. Posh boys carry skis and sabres while girls from the other side of the tracks carry defence dildos. Only, the more I say it, the less it seems to matter to me. ‘It was a wedding,’ he continues with an almost disparaging shake of his head. ‘In the wilds of Scotland somewhere, and there were these old cavalry swords hanging above the mantel.’
‘And you couldn’t resist,’ I deadpan.
‘More like I’d had too much to drink. Do you have a moral objection to casinos? It’s just, you frowned when I asked.’
‘Not really. I mean, it is a beautiful building and I guess I will go at some point. If for no other reason than the inside is super swanky, so I’m told. ‘Gambling doesn’t hold any interest for me.’
‘Really?’ He picks up his glass, leaning back in his chair before proceeding to study me over the rim.
‘Do you like to gamble?’
‘Not in the ways you’re thinking,’ he answers cryptically. ‘I think perhaps your objection to gambling comes from experience.’
‘Not in the way you’re thinking,’ I parrot back. I pause as I debate the merits of telling this silly story.
‘You look so torn, but that just makes me want to know all the more.’
‘You’re going to be disappointed.’ I help myself to another wedge of cheese, eyeing the figs and choosing a grape instead. Less messy. ‘When I was travelling, on my way to Australia from Europe, I had a layover in Hong Kong. The hostel I was staying in—you know, like dorms? Don’t look at me like that—I bet you’ve never stayed anywhere less than five-star in your life. Anyway, I met a Danish girl in the hostel, and we decided to go to Macau where the casinos are.’
‘There’s a cheap bus, which is a bonus when you’re broke. We wandered from place to place, munching on the complimentary snacks.’ He looks less than impressed by that. ‘Hey, it was no worse than some of the food we saw at one of the food markets. Shim Sham Poo or something.’