If anything, he felt more at peace with himself than he had since Annette’s tragic accident. Though he didn’t believe in ghosts or an afterlife, he imagined he could feel Annette’s spirit lingering somewhere inside him. And that spirit was also at peace with what was happening, even encouraging.
Annette would have wanted him to find love again, and she had always especially liked Cleo. Yes, he told himself as he let go of the last trace of hesitation. This is the right path, no matter how many twists and turns it has taken to get here. I’m ready to live again.
The food came quickly—lamb biriyani, chicken masala, saag paneer, eggplant curry, raita yogurt, pickled vegetables and a basket piled with steaming naan stuffed with potatoes, peas and onion. All talk ceased as they ladled and ate the deliciously flavorful, spicy fare and drank cup after tiny cup of the fragrant, sweet tea.
When the platters and plates were cleared away, their server returned to inquire about dessert. Jack leaned back, patting his stomach. “I can’t eat another bite,” he pronounced.
“I can,” Cleo asserted staunchly. “No Indian meal is complete without dessert.” Addressing the server, she said sweetly, “We’ll have one gulab jamun and one rice kheer.” She skimmed the dessert menu once more and looked up at Jack. “What about a half bottle of sauvignon blanc? Believe it or not, it goes really well.”
“Sure,” Jack replied, delighted with this funny, complex woman. “Why not?”
“Excellent,” the server said approvingly as she took her leave.
“You must weigh barely a hundred pounds,” Jack said. “Where are you going to put it?”
“Oh, no worries there,” Cleo said, her blue eyes twinkling. “Fortunately, I also have a dessert stomach, and it’s still quite empty.”
Jack laughed, delighted.
The wine was surprisingly good, and he had two glasses to Cleo’s one. He hadn’t intended to have even a bite of either dessert, but they did look rather wonderful, and he couldn’t resist. The kheer was especially delicious, flavored with cardamom, rosewater and bits of pistachio that elevated it from simple rice pudding to something sublime.
“Hey, save some for me,” Cleo teased as they clinked spoons in the bowl.
Finally, completely stuffed and pleasantly buzzed from the wine, Jack felt ready to tackle the topic that had been burning in his brain all day.
“So,” he said, placing his hands on the table as he met Cleo’s eyes. “There’s something I want to discuss with you.”
“Yes, Sir,” Cleo replied softly, her demeanor shifting effortlessly from vanilla date to proper submissive.
He blew out a breath, surprised at how difficult this was. What if she said no? What if she said yes? What if he ruined the delicate, marvelous balance that had developed between them by moving too fast?
Stop it, he admonished himself. You’re a risk-taker. You based your career on it. Worst that happens, she says no, and you’re where you were before. But if you don’t ask, you’ll never know.
“Sir?” Cleo queried, concern in her eyes.
Jack managed a small, self-conscious laugh. “Sorry. I’m a little nervous,” he admitted.
She knit her brows but made no more comment, her luminous blue eyes fixed on his face.
“Here’s the thing,” he blurted, determined to get it out before he lost his nerve. “I want our relationship to move past this auction thing. I want to find out if what we have right now is real. I want to take you home to London with me, Cleo.”
He held his breath as he waited for her response. Her hand had fluttered to her mouth, her eyes widening, but for several long beats, she said nothing.
“Cleo?” he prodded, trying not to leap to any conclusion, negative or positive, though it felt as if his very life hung in the balance.
“Gosh,” she finally said. She laughed a small, tinkling laugh while shaking her head. “I don’t know what to say.” She shook her head, her hand moving from her mouth to cover her eyes. “Is my bedroom bugged? It’s like you were listening in on me and Jess.”
“What?” Jack replied, confused.
She dropped her hand, a faint blush moving over her cheeks. “Oh, uh, nothing. Jess and I were just talking before dinner about…stuff. The thing is, I can’t just take off whenever I want to. I am already owned, you know.”
“I spoke with Dominique just now,” Jack admitted. “She says they would never hold you to that contract, if you were ready to make a change.”
“You already spoke to her about this? Before even asking me?”
Jack blew out a breath. “Look, I know I’m moving really fast. I do.” He reached across the small table and covered Cleo’s hand, which was resting beside her empty wineglass. “The thing is, Annette’s passing really brought it home to me how your whole life can change in the blink of an eye. I’ve already wasted so much time, Cleo, and nearly lost you in the process. I understand better now how much my actions, or lack of action, hurt you. I’m so sorry for that. Truly I am.”