He caught her eye, then took her hand and squeezed, explaining, “If you’d met my mother, you’d understand. She’s not the most nurturing woman. Hardly the type to wear an apron, much less tie me to it.”
“You’re Evita Chamberlain’s son,” Judith said, shaking her head. “I can’t believe it took me so long to figure that out. You look just like your father.”
“So I’m told.”
“You know his parents?” Cath asked Judith.
Judith ignored her, addressing her remarks to Nev. “She’s a formidable woman. Must have been one hell of a mother. My condolences.”
“Thank you.”
“Richard did tell me once his younger son was a painter. He seemed very proud, come to think of it.”
“Is that so?”
“I suppose you must be good. Richard knows his art. I hear he’s not a bad painter himself, though he never shows anyone his work.”
“He paints excellent landscapes.”
“Will someone please tell me what the hell you’re talking about?” Cath asked, without much hope of being answered.
“Your boyfriend’s parents are major art patrons,” Judith said matter-of-factly. “Filthy rich, too. You should hit him up for a donation.”
“Wow,” Cath said. “That was crass.” She was having a hard time processing all the turns the conversation had taken, and apparently the social filter that kept her from saying rude things to her boss had gone offline.
It was only fair. Her boss didn’t seem to mind saying rude things to her date.
Judith smiled, and the expression twisted her face into such an unaccustomed shape, it was all Cath could do not to gawp at her. It was like seeing Count Dracula smile—you hadn’t known he was capable of it, and you hadn’t really wanted to know. “In the arts,” Judith said, “you gotta hustle.”
Then she turned back to her computer, dismissing them with a wave of her hand. “Go have fun with your banker. I like him, even if he does dress like a stiff.”
Grateful to bring the interview to a close, Cath pulled Nev out of Judith’s office by the hand.
“Aren’t you going to show me where you work?” Nev peered over at the manuscript-strewn conference table.
“I think you’ve got the general idea,” Cath said. “And if you still want to take me to dinner, you’ll have me out of this room in the next five seconds.”
“Ah.” He scooped up her bag, retrieved his briefcase from the floor, and gestured to the open door with one arm. “After you.”
She showed him the quickest way out of the museum, and they walked through South Kensington, past the Tube station toward Chelsea Embankment. It was hot enough that Nev took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, transforming himself into a character from an old movie. In his vest and trousers, his blond hair a little messy and gleaming in the sun, he looked like he should be busting down the doors of speakeasies or shooting dice in an alleyway.
Sometimes she had trouble believing such a gorgeous man would want anything to do with her. This was one of those times.
He glanced over and caught her staring. “What? Do your feet hurt in those shoes? The bar isn’t far, but we could stop and rest if you’d like. Or find a taxi.”
“My feet are fine. I like walking. You, uh—” She looked down, suddenly shy. “You just look kind of incredible, is all.”
He stroked the back of her neck, and when she glanced up again he was smiling at her. “So do you. I didn’t know you owned clothes with colors.” She’d worn a sheer, short-sleeved red blouse with a black camisole and a black skirt to work. It was nothing fancy, but she’d hoped it would pass for both office and dinner attire. And, okay, she’d also hoped he’d like it.
“I have a few things that aren’t black.”
“Of course you do, darling. Only all the ones I’ve seen are very small, and I get to take them off with my teeth. You’ve trained me to salivate at the sight of color, like one of Pavlov’s dogs. Your top is making me very hungry.” He gave her his Big Bad Wolf smile, and she laughed, enjoying the rush of heat down her spine. He was kidding, but not really. The look in his eyes told her that given the opportunity, he’d have her naked in two minutes flat.
She’d been so nervous about letting down this last barrier and actually dating Nev, she hadn’t considered the advantages of going out to dinner with him. There was a lot to be said for stepping out on the arm of the best-looking man in London and knowing he would take you home later and make you come over and over again.
“Thanks for letting me meet Judith,” he said. “I like her. She’s funny.”
“She was completely awful to you.”