'Don't look at me like that.' He washed his hands and dried them. 'Men can cook, you know.'
He picked up a knife and chopped onion and garlic with a speed that made her jaw drop.
'Did you used to be a chef?'
'No, a surgeon. Plenty of practice with knives.'
She laughed and then settled herself on a stool to watch him cook. 'Lindsay sends her love, by the way. I called on my way home tonight. You're her hero.'
He frowned slightly, clearly uncomfortable with the thought. 'How's the baby doing?'
'Fine. She's gorgeous.' Ellie watched as he browned the meat and added the onions and garlic. 'Can I ask you something?'
'Here we go again.' He snapped open a tin of tomatoes. 'Knowing you, it will be something that most human beings wouldn't dare voice. You're the only person I've ever met who says exactly what's in her head without any censorship whatsoever.'
'Well, at least you know what I'm thinking,' she pointed out and he gave a short laugh.
'I suppose there is that. Go on, then. Ask away.'
'This thing that's upsetting you,' she said slowly, 'it's something to do with Resus, isn't it?'
The temperature in the room suddenly fell below zero and the expression in Ben's dark eyes was forbidding.
'Ellie—nothing's upsetting me.'
She glanced at him briefly and then turned her attention back to the sauce. 'You need to stir that before it sticks. You know, in your own way you're just as easy to read as me. The only difference is that you say the opposite of what you're really thinking. Take now, for example—you say nothing is wrong, but I know something is wrong.'
'I really, really don't want to talk about this,' he growled, moving away from her and pacing across the room to the window.
'Because you're afraid that talking will make things worse?' Her voice was soft and she turned off the sauce and walked across to him. 'Have you ever tried talking about it?'
He ignored her question and she nodded.
'I'll take that as a no. You should confide in someone, Ben. It might help.'
A muscle worked in his lean jaw and his broad shoulders were tense. 'Have you finished?'
'For now.' On impulse she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. 'You're a very tough man, Ben, but even tough men are allowed to have feelings. It wouldn't make you less tough to talk about how you feel.'
Without waiting for him to answer, she walked back over to the kitchen area, drained the pasta and divided it between two plates.
'This looks delicious.' She added the sauce and carried the two plates over to the table.
They ate in virtual silence and when they'd finally cleared their plates he glanced across at her, his expression unreadable.
'I didn't know it was possible for you to stay quiet for so long.'
'Well, you've banned so many topics that I don't know what to say any more.'
'You're saying you're lost for words?' A faint smile touched his hard mouth. 'I find that hard to believe, Ellie Harrison.'
She looked at him, encouraged by the reluctant smile in his eyes. Maybe, just maybe—if she was patient—she'd eventually persuade him to confide in her.
It-was definitely what he needed, she decided.
'Dinner tonight?' Ben lifted his head and his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked at Sean. 'I don't know…'
'Please. As a favour to me. Ally's invited a small crowd,' Sean said wearily, 'I need moral support.'