An Irresistible Bachelor(43)

Looking across the candles at him, she thought the scene felt very different from their usual routine.

She quickly took a drink and focused on her glass. "Good Lord. What kind of wine is this?"

He said something in French and followed the grand title with the year she'd gotten her learner's permit to drive a car.

"It's, ah—very nice." And no doubt the best wine she'd ever had.

As she tried the pasta, she let out a small moan of appreciation.

Jack looked up. "I feel the same way. The man's a genius."

"How long have you known him?"

"He's been here since the seventies. He could be a chef in any first-class restaurant, but he works best by himself. But what about you?" He switched the subject deftly. "Do you have any siblings?"

Callie swallowed a mouthful that had turned flavorless. She bought herself some time by drinking a little wine.

"I have a half sister," she said quietly.



"Are you close?"

"Ah—it's complicated. But I like her very much."

He nodded and let the subject drop, only to bring up something that completely wiped out her appetite.

"What about your parents? What are they like?" He was twirling pasta around his fork casually, but she wasn't fooled. He was waiting for her answer.

"They're both dead."

He lowered his fork. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. In the dim light, she was stupidly tempted to talk. About her mother, at least. But then she eyed the empty place setting, where his friend should have been, and reminded herself that an accident of fate had put them alone together. This was not some magical beginning for them.

"Thanks, but I'm doing okay."

"So who do you go to when you need help?" he asked. "Who's there for you?"

She took a good long drink. "I, ah—I don't know how to answer that."

"You could try a proper noun," he chided gently.

She smiled, thinking when he got playful like that, he was pretty damn near irresistible.

"I try to keep to myself," she said.

He frowned and tilted his head to one side. "What kind of men do you go for?"

She looked at him in surprise. "What kind of—God, I don't know."

"Come on, there must be a set of characteristics you find attractive. Looks, humor, money—”

"Definitely not money."



He smiled and picked up his glass. "So that takes me out of the running."

"You're out of the running because you have a fiancée." As soon as the words were out, she wanted to curse. "What I mean is—”

Jack took a fast drink. "I know, I know."

There was a long silence.

"So back to your men. What's your type?"

Callie shook her head at his persistence. "I don't have a type."

"Everyone does."

"So what's yours?" she countered quickly.

"Touche. But how about you go first this time?"

When she just smiled and stayed silent, he laughed.

"Don't tell me you can't take what you dish out?" As she remained quiet, he said, "Fine. Why don't you tell me what you think my kind of woman is? But remember, charity begins at home and you're under my roof."

She hesitated. "Are we talking about the new, improved, socially responsible Jack Walker? Or the playboy whose pants have been known to run through hotel lobbies without him?"

He laughed. "For both our sakes, let's keep it current."

"Okay." She took a long drink from her glass and was surprised when she emptied it. "I'm sure you'd want someone who shares your background and values, who's beautiful, socially adept. I can't imagine you'd waste time with a dummy so she'd have to be smart. And I think it would make it easier for you if your mother approved, although I doubt you'd make that a condition."

His eyebrows rose and she got the impression she'd nailed the answer.

"May I have some more wine?" she asked quickly.

His lips lifted. "Of course. If you answer my question."

"I just did."

He smiled. "I still want to talk about your men."

Well, that was going to be one short conversation, she thought wryly.