“Can’t it be enough?” I asked, meeting his eyes. “Just being together physically.”
“You tell me.” His eyes blazed with heat. “I’m not the only one who wants questions answered.”
I nodded slowly. “You’re right. I am curious about you, Hadrian. Why were you at The Mansion if you weren’t there to spend your night with a woman? Why do you live on an island off the coast of Shetland when Lerwick looked absolutely adorable and is clearly remote already? Why is your home built into the side of a mountain? And how do you have so much money that you can throw it away on a girl you don’t even know?”
Silence reigned between us and then he suddenly smiled.
I did not like that smile. It was a smile of victory.
Hadrian arched a brow. “You are no better at the art of subtle conversation than I am. How the hell were you ever planning on being a Rex girl?”
I glared. “I have no problem conversing with other people. My problem is you.”
He said nothing and then he began to eat, but his gaze remained on me. A shield had been erected and his expression was unusually stoic.
“Why do you bring out the worst in me?” I asked quietly.
“I don’t bring out the worst in you. I bring out the honesty in you. And I think you haven’t been honest with yourself in a very long time. If ever.”
“You are exceedingly arrogant. Not to mention presumptuous. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?”
“Trying to fluster me enough into telling you all my deep and dark secrets.”
“You have deep and dark secrets?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Eat your lobster, Hadrian,” I groused.
We devoured our food as the boat rocked gently from side to side and the waves lapped at the hulls. It was as much about eating as it was about having something to do. I didn’t like the uneasiness that had sprung up between us. It felt like we were on uneven ground, but I wouldn’t be intimidated into answering questions about myself.
“The nuns taught me,” he said, crushing the silence.
My eyes flew to his. His face was stoic, unyielding.
“You were taught by nuns?” I asked. “So was I.”
He shook his head. “I was raised by them.”
I frowned in clear lack of understanding.
“I’m an orphan, Eden.”
My eyes widened in surprise. He’d opened himself up, just a bit, giving me a tiny glimmer into his past.
It felt uncharitable not to give him something in return.
“I’m an orphan too.” I took a sip of my wine. “My mother’s first language was Italian. It was all we spoke in the house when I was growing up. She was an immigrant and didn’t speak English well for some time.”
“And French?”
“I taught myself French last year,” I evaded. I suddenly felt my stomach lurch and hastily set my fork down.
His eyebrows snapped together. “Eden? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I said slowly. “I feel funny.”
“Funny like you’re having an allergic reaction, or funny like—”
“Seasick!” I quickly pushed back from the table, my hand going to my mouth, and then I ran from the salon. I sprinted downstairs, having no idea where I was going, and no sooner had I found a bathroom than I upchucked the rich lobster.
Nausea swam in my belly and I felt clammy and sweaty. I managed to slide across the floor to close the bathroom door and lock it.
I threw up again and groaned.
“Eden,” Hadrian commanded a few moments later through the door, trying to turn the doorknob to enter. “Let me in.”
“No,” I moaned. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“I have something that will settle your stomach. I’ve got some sparkling water and an anti-nausea pill which works almost instantly.”
“But how am I supposed to keep them down if I’m vomiting every—” My head went back over the toilet, effectively proving my point.
“Eden,” he barked. “Open the damn door.”
I reluctantly dragged myself across the floor and unlocked the door. I didn’t bother getting up, but I did move out of the way so it wouldn’t hit me when he opened it.
Hadrian loomed. His crisp white shirt was open at the collar, his sleeves rolled up.
I stared at his boat shoes while trying not to embarrass myself by throwing up in his presence.
“You look like hell,” he said lightly.
“Screw you.” I immediately covered my mouth—not to stop the spewing of my curses, but the spewing of the contents of my stomach.