“And how’s it working out for you? Doing absolutely nothing, that is?”
“Honestly?” he asked, dipping his head and looking up at her through those gorgeous eyelashes of his. She found the almost shy gesture incredibly appealing and fought back another one of her embarrassing blushes.
“Yep.”
“It’s boring as hell. I’ve always had something to do, and all this leisure time is driving me crazy.”
“Well, you’ve kept yourself busy with the hiking and climbing and stuff, so you haven’t been completely idle.”
“But that was fun and unproductive, and for someone like me, it’s damned near decadent to be able to do anything I want, without any sort of regimen. I’ve lived my entire life according to a schedule, sometimes mine, mostly someone else’s—so this just feels”—he stopped as he searched for the correct word—“wrong. It feels wrong. And I feel selfish.”
“You’ve spent your life helping others, Mason. Cut yourself some slack.” She would have continued if Thandiwe hadn’t chosen that moment to bring their food. Mason looked a little relieved by the interruption, and once their bubbly server had left, he very determinedly changed the subject.
“Ah, now this is one thing I’m happy remained the same,” he said with an appreciative sigh, after giving his steak a long and lusty look. “The food at MJ’s has always been awesome, despite the lack of variation in the menu.”
“Or maybe because of it,” Daisy suggested. “Why change something that’s working perfectly fine in the first place?”
“Touché,” he said, before slicing off a sizable chunk of the—much-too-rare-for-Daisy’s-liking—meat and shoving it into his mouth. He groaned, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes as he chewed on his meat. He looked incredibly sexy and—quite uncharacteristically—Daisy found herself wondering if he showed this much enthusiasm and sensual appreciation during sex. She would assume so. Mason Carlisle just seemed like the type of man who did nothing by half measures. He enjoyed every sensual, physical, and cerebral aspect of life. The type of man who took action and went after the things he wanted, rather than standing on the sidelines watching all the important experiences in life pass him by.
He opened his eyes and caught her staring, her fork halfway to her open mouth, and Daisy quickly averted her eyes, despite knowing that it was already much too late to pretend she wasn’t completely riveted by him.
“Sorry, I appreciate good food a little too much sometimes. Bad table manners, I know.” He was smiling as he spoke, inviting her to share his self-deprecating humor. She forced an answering feeble smile in return, but her expression froze at his next words. “I’ll be on my best behavior at your sister’s wedding, though. I promise not to act like a starving man at a banquet and embarrass you.”
Embarrass her? A man of Mason Carlisle’s caliber couldn’t even begin to grasp the concept of embarrassment. But, that aside, it was time to address the elephant in the room, and Daisy sighed as she placed her fork neatly on the side of her plate.
“Mason, I really appreciate the fact that you were—are—willing to help me out like this, but the inherent dishonesty of it is making me feel really uncomfortable, and I don’t think I can, or even want to, go through with it.”
He said nothing, kept his focus on his plate as he sliced off another piece of steak and speared some steaming potato along the way as well. He shoveled the contents of the overburdened fork into his mouth and watched her closely while he chewed. He ate like a man, no delicacy or artifice about him. He washed the food down with some wine and sucked at his teeth before finally making a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. It sounded like a lion’s purr and unsettled Daisy more than she was willing to let on.
“So you’re uninviting me?”
“Well, I mean, it wasn’t like it was an official . . .”
“Daisy? I thought that was you!” The loud, overly sweet voice had the same effect on Daisy as fingernails on a chalkboard, and she girded herself to face the owner of that voice.
“Hey, Shar,” she greeted with more of a grimace than a smile, but Shar had already dismissed Daisy and her laser-like focus was pinned entirely on Mason.
“And look who you have with you. Mason, how wonderful to see you again!” She leaned over, probably giving Mason a generous eyeful of her exposed cleavage, and kissed the air on either side of his face. “It’s been years! I thought I saw you last night, but I was out celebrating my friend’s hen night, you know.”
She then, to Daisy’s annoyance, dragged up a chair and sat down at their table, turning her body toward Mason and completely excluding Daisy from their exchange. Mason casually continued to eat, saying nothing, but staring at her in interest, occasionally allowing his eyes to stray down to her breasts and then back up to her lovely face. His expression was inscrutable, making it hard for Daisy to figure out what he was thinking.