Bargain in Bronze

He’d withdrawn into statue mode again. He sat stone-still, and his smile had disappeared. He’d retreated behind that blank, serious barrier again. A wave of protectiveness swamped her. Which was crazy. As if a six-foot-two guy, with beyond-Mensa brains, needed anyone’s protection?

But he’d asked her to come with him for fun. He’d wanted light relief and she’d been doing a rubbish job of that so far. Not good enough when he’d put on a stellar “Latin lover” performance for her. It was time to pull her weight.

Except his aunt apparently had no need to breathe, ever, and Nina was unable to break through her monologue. Instead, she slipped her hand onto his knee beneath the table to show her support. Nothing wrong with a knee touch, right? It wasn’t too intimate, not like she’d gone straight for his package—though the wicked thought flashed in her head. He shot her a startled look and she went to withdraw, only he slammed his hand over the top of hers so hard she couldn’t move. His fingers curled around hers and then he lifted her hand far higher up his thigh—well within intimate boundaries now. Beneath her fingers, his muscles were rigid and rocketed heat up her arm and into her heart.

“You’re here to watch some of the Games?” She boldly spoke to his aunt—boldly and blithely interrupting now. “Which event do you like best?”

The older woman hesitated and Nina chomped the inside of her lip, thinking she was going to be ignored, or worse, castigated for so rudely interrupting.

“Gymnastics,” Graciela finally answered.

Nina nodded. “They’re amazing, aren’t they? Some of those girls are so tiny.”

“I like men’s gymnastics,” Graciela said firmly.

Nina blinked. Was she picking up on a Stella-esque vibe from Eduardo’s ancient aunt? Did the elderly lady have an eye for the men, the same way her friend Stella did? How fabulous. “Yes,” she agreed brightly, every cell inside smiling. She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I like the men’s diving, too. What do you think about that?”

Eduardo’s fingers tightened around hers for a couple of pulses. She registered his amusement. Good.

…

Nina was every bit as effervescent as Eduardo had guessed. But in that quiet way—smiling, a soft bubbling within. He wanted her to bubble over in his arms. She’d drawn Gabi out—Gabi whom he respected greatly and loved like family. She’d even taken on Tia Graciela, in the end guiding the conversation straight out of tricky waters like a velvet-gloved, steel-boned diplomat.

And now, thank heavens, Graciela had taken Gabi to go talk to another family across the room. They were from his hometown—important business contacts for his parents. It seemed everyone was here for the opening ceremony. Eduardo knew he should go over and talk to them, too, but he simply didn’t want to. He wanted to remain alone with Nina.

“You know more about the athletes than you admit,” he said as they waited for coffee to be served.

“I actually do like the men’s diving.” She picked up one of the petit fours and put it in her mouth.

“But you really want to miss the Games?”

For a split-second, she looked wistful. Then she picked up her spoon and added a sugar cube to her coffee. “There are so many people from home coming to town. I didn’t want to have to see them.”

“It bothers you that much?” She needed to run away to the Continent to avoid them?

“I know it’s lame. But so many of them knew. And they didn’t tell me. No one had my back.”

He took a sip of scalding hot coffee, the burn on his tongue nothing on the flare of anger inside. He didn’t like how badly she’d been hurt.

“So what’s your family business?”

Eduardo grinned at the way she took charge of conversation when she felt vulnerable. Good for her. Even if it wasn’t a topic he wanted to pursue. “We have a couple of stores.”

“What kind of stores?”

“Department stores, but they mainly specialize in interiors. Furnishings.”

She nodded but didn’t press for more information. He was glad. He didn’t want her to be impressed by the family wealth. Though that was a stupid qualm when he’d been the one to put a giant diamond on her finger. But that was different. That was just a crazy impulse, and she understood that was what tonight was all about.

“Tell me about your work.” She turned to him.

On second thought, he’d rather talk about the family business. “What’s to tell?”

“You don’t solve cold cases.”

“No,” he chuckled. “I’m not a forensic pathologist.”

“What do you do?”

“Hematology.”

“Oh.”

He watched her thinking.

“So like, leukemia patients and stuff?”

“And hemophilia, of course. Many different blood diseases.” But his main specialization was oncology—the cancers.

“Do you work in labs or with patients?”

“Both.”

“You didn’t correct me earlier.”

“I couldn’t in front of those friends of yours. Not without blowing our story.” He toyed with the spoon. “Have you been wondering if I’ve spent the day dissecting gruesome discoveries?”

“Do you think that would bother me?”

“You don’t think it’s a strange kind of person who does that?”

“Not strange,” she disagreed. “Courageous. Strong. Brilliant.”

Television dramas and novels had glamorized a tough job. But his was different and he knew from past experience that talking about helping terminal cancer patients made people uncomfortable. “My work doesn’t make for great conversation.” He smiled. “Whereas talking about how beautiful you look? That’s great conversation.”

“Flatterer.” She put her glass down. “Don’t change the subject. I really want to know more about what you do.”

No. He didn’t want to go there. Not this week, when he felt like he didn’t do nearly enough. Anyway, in his life, work and women didn’t fit together. Work had and always would come first for him, and no woman would ever be okay with that. So he avoided the talk. “And I really want to have a night off.”

She inclined her head, her eyes sharply assessing. “All right, that’s fair enough.” A coy smile appeared on her lips. “So are you going to take me dancing?”

His skin tightened in anticipation. “You mean at a club?”

There was a pause, a widening of her eyes as she registered where else he might take her… dancing.

“Of course.” She batted her lashes at him.

But he’d seen the flush of heat staining her skin. It struck him she was more innocent than she liked to let on. She was hotter too—he still couldn’t think about that kiss earlier without getting harder than he’d ever been in his life. He shook his head.

“You don’t dance?” She teased now.

Of course he did. But he couldn’t dance with her in public, he’d get them arrested for lewd behavior within two minutes. He had to hold off long enough to get them in a private place. Home. And soon.

“Eduardo,” she challenged, her vivacious eyes sparkling. “You don’t want to make a fool of yourself in public?”

“I don’t want to make everyone else feel insecure about their dance moves,” he drawled with deliberate slowness.

“Oh, so you’re doing them a favor by not showing them up?” She so clearly didn’t believe him.

“That’s right.” He looked wickedly right back at her.

“So considerate of you.” She glanced across the room, her amusement dying. “Are you sure you don’t want to go and talk to Gabi? I won’t mind. She’s very beautiful.”

“I’m not so impolite I’d leave you alone and go talk to another woman.”

He saw the flare of disbelief in her eyes. Her esteem was too low. Jerk fiancé. Didn’t she understand how attractive she was? “I’m with the most intriguing woman in the room.”

She laughed and that flush colored her cheekbones again.

“Why aren’t you engaged for real?”

Now he laughed.