The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,95

left Tokyo but this time it was as if he was trying to see into her soul. Her skin prickled with awareness as his eyes roved over her face.

‘You’re a very nice person. That’s the first time in a long while that someone else has offered to pay for me. Which makes it all the sweeter and my pleasure to pay for someone who doesn’t expect it. But unfortunately, on this occasion, I can’t take the credit. This is on the competition prize tab.’ He winced. ‘You know I am still officially your mentor. I feel like I’m taking the piss slightly. I’m not sure Kaito would approve of my mentoring last night. I’m pretty certain it’s not what he had in mind when he set this trip up. Me seducing the competition winner.’

‘Seducing makes it sound one sided. I’m a grown-up.’

‘You certainly are. And there was nothing one sided about last night.’

With one sentence he had the power to make her blush and remember the flurry of clothes hurriedly shed in a tangle of limbs.

‘So,’ his mouth quirked, ‘dinner tonight. I thought we’d go to a steamboat restaurant.’

‘Explain.’

‘Wait and see but I think you’ll like it.’

She rolled her eyes.

‘And after that …’ Oh God, he was doing it again. The man was positively wicked and every naughty thought seemed to be etched onto his face. Her cheeks seemed to be in a permanent state of pinkness. ‘I have a surprise, although you’ll have to get naked.’

‘What?’

‘You don’t have any tattoos I missed, do you?’

She almost choked on her water at the wicked gleam in his eyes.

‘No.’

‘I didn’t think so. I thought I’d been very thorough in the shower.’

‘Gabe!’ she hissed, her face turning even redder. His wicked smirk was unrepentant.

‘Tattoos are banned where we’re going. They’re associated with the Yakuza, the Japanese equivalent of the mafia.’

‘I don’t have any tattoos,’ she said primly, sitting on the edge of her chair and pressing her knees together, trying hard not to think of Gabe’s laughing face that morning in the shower and the intimate places he’d kissed which were now throbbing with latent memory.

‘Phew, that’s a relief. I was worried I might have missed something and was going to have to give you another thorough inspection.’

‘Gabe!’ she hissed again, glancing round.

He leaned forward. ‘You kept saying that last night.’

She kicked him under the table. ‘Will you behave?’

‘Why, when teasing you is so much fun?’

And that pretty much shaped the rest of the day.

***

‘Will you quit with the sexy feeding thing,’ said Fiona when Gabe lifted his chopsticks to her mouth for the third time during dinner that evening.

‘You might starve. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone quite so inept with a pair of chopsticks.’

‘You’ve had years to practise. How am I supposed to get any better if you don’t stop doing that?’

He fished a piece of Iberico pork out of the bubbling broth in the steamboat in front of them.

‘Every time I think I’ve had my favourite meal, something else comes along. This is another amazing dish,’ sighed Fiona.

Since they’d arrived she been fascinated by the big silver steamboats on the tables of the other diners and now it was their turn. The ornate, stainless-steel pan sat over a single gas ring which had been brought to their table and held a bubbling chicken broth. The best way Fiona could describe it was like a savoury fondue, where you chose the flavour of your cooking broth from beef, chicken, pork, fish or seafood and then cooked your own delicate slivers of meats, raw prawns and chopped vegetables that of course came beautifully arranged on a circular tray in front of them. Peppers – red, yellow and even purple – had been sliced into fine strips, while the carrots had been carved into cherry blossoms and the broccoli had been cut into tiny, delicate trees, the stems carved with an intricate pattern.

‘That’s incredible. I’m not sure I should eat it,’ she said, marvelling at the detail of the work.

‘Then the chef would be offended. The Japanese take hospitality very seriously and vegetable carving is considered a fine art. You’ve probably realised that they celebrate the seasons, like with hanami, but there’s also Iris flower season, the autumn foliage; you’ll see it in the art but also in other parts of the culture, especially food. Having the first of the season, like the first strawberry, is much prized and they often carve the food to match the seasons. In autumn you’ll find