‘The innocent confusion is good,’ he murmured. ‘It’s a real turn-on. But I’m quite sure you know that. Tell me, Miss Evans, do you like books?’
Carly blinked. ‘Books?’
‘Those things people used to read in print form, but now mostly download online.’
‘I believe they still print books, Mr James,’ she said, a glimmer of anger burning low in her stomach. ‘But, yes, I like to read.’
‘I’m being facetious, Red.’ He smiled easily. ‘I prefer non-fiction to fiction. You?’
Carly would prefer to be anywhere but having to look into his handsome face. ‘Both are good,’ she said warily, wondering where he was going with this.
‘Personally I’m too straightforward for fiction. I don’t like things that are made-up.’
‘Well, it depends on the author’s imagination,’ Carly said, pushing a strand of hair that had come loose from her bun back behind her ear.
‘Do you have a good one?’ He ran the tip of his index finger along the long stem of his wineglass.
‘Miss Evans?’
Carly blinked. ‘Book?’
‘Imagination?’
‘I... I like to think so, but I’m not an author. I couldn’t wri—’
‘Helen Garner is an author I admire.’
‘Who?’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to know who she is. She’s Australian. Very literary. I lived in Australia for a while when I was young. Did you know that?’
‘No.’ Carly glanced at the door wishing the Baron would hurry up and return. ‘Look, Mr James—’
‘Call me Dare.’
Carly let out a breath. ‘This is all very fascinating but—’
‘My mother discovered Ms Garner’s work first, but then I happened to study her at university.’
‘University?’ Her voice sounded shaky and she cleared it.
‘Keep up, Red.’ His smile was so phony she wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a deck of tarot cards and started reading her fortune. ‘A university is an institution one attends when they’re looking to better themselves.’
‘I know what a university is, Mr James,’ she said from between her teeth. ‘I’m just struggling to follow the conversation.’
‘Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. You have other great qualities that are far more important, but you know that, don’t you?’ His eyes held hers. ‘Are you sure you won’t have another drink? Benson’s pulled out all stops with the wine.’
As she realised that he had only been amusing himself at her expense Carly’s slowly simmering anger just met its point of ignition. ‘I’m trying to be pleasant here,’ she bit out.
Dare rose from his seat, wine bottle in hand. ‘Believe me, Red, so am I.’
Like hell. She glared at him. ‘Call me that name again and you won’t like the consequences.’
Many children had tried while she’d been growing up and they’d got the wrong end of her temper every time.
‘Is that a threat?’ he mocked.
Carly took a deep breath and told herself not to let him get to her. Then she didn’t care. ‘I don’t like what you’ve been implying,’ she said, facing him squarely. ‘Why not come right to the point if you’re so straightforward?’
He rounded the table and prowled towards her. Carly had to fight every bone in her body not to get up and run.
‘You picked up on that, huh?’
‘On your veiled animosity?’ She gave him a superior smile of her own. ‘Even a small child would have found it hard to miss.’
‘But then children are so perceptive. Do you want children, Red?’
He reached out and brushed the loose strand of her hair back behind her ear. Carly gasped, twisting in her seat to look up at him. ‘You don’t care if I want children or not,’ she said, distracted by the way her skin tingled where his fingers had grazed it.
‘Not really,’ he agreed affably, leaning on the back of her chair. ‘But if they’re on your agenda you might want to consider Benson’s age. He won’t exactly be pitching a football with the youngster in the backyard. Not that the backyard isn’t big enough. You made sure of that first, didn’t you?’