The dining-room appeared full as they entered, the tables all at a discreet distance from each other, with subdued lighting and beautiful furnishings adding to the general air of unashamed opulence. A waiter appeared as though by magic at Wolfs shoulder and seemed to know instantly who he was, ushering them both to a _perfectly positioned table for two in an elegant alcove where they could see everything but remain relatively unobserved themselves.
"Could you bring us a bottle of my usual champagne?" As the waiter handed them two large, heavily embossed menus he nodded immediately, his face deferential.
"There's one on ice now, Mr. Strade," he said quietly.
Lydia saw him raise his hand to someone just outside her line of vision and within seconds an ice-bucket complete with vintage Bollinger was placed in front of them. She might have known. An expression of distaste nickered across her face for a brief moment.
Was he treated with this ingratiating respect that bordered on reverence everywhere he went? No wonder the man's ego was jumbo-sized. She glanced up to find the vivid blue eyes tight on her face, their depths intuitive.
"Don't frown," he said drily.
She opened her mouth to protest that she wasn't, but then realised she was and shut it again abruptly.
"And I can't help it if money talks, it's the way of the world." The hard gaze moved over her pink cheeks slowly.
"With most people, that is... Now, what would you like to eat?" he asked smoothly.
She glanced at the menu apprehensively. Was it going to be one of those ultra-sophisticated non-readable items in French? There were several languages, but thankfully English was one of them, and she was able to select the first and main course without any difficulty, which Wolf duly relayed to the waiter once he returned after a discreet interval. As he did so she glanced carefully round the room.
It must cost a king's fortune to eat in a place like this if the clientele were anything to go by.
"How was Hannah?"
_Her eyes snapped back to his and she saw he was surveying her thoughtfully, his gaze narrowed.
"Fine, thank you, she's very adaptable," she said carefully.
"She seemed a plucky, sensible little kid on the night of the accident," he agreed quietly.
"You must love her very much."
"Yes, I do." She smiled warmly as she pictured her daughter's bright little face.
"You were very good with her that night. Wolf, especially for a confirmed bachelor," she finished lightly, and then was suddenly conscious as she looked into his face that a mask of ice had frozen over the hard features.
"My daughter was the same age when she was killed." The words hung in the air, stark and raw, and for a moment Lydia stared at him helplessly, her mouth half- open.
"Wolf--' " It was a long time ago, Lydia, buried in the past now. "
It didn't look as though it was buried, she thought with stunned horror as her wide eyes took in his taut mouth and haunted eyes.
"My wife and daughter were involved in a car accident eight years ago and both killed instantly," he continued expressionlessly, his voice flat. "From that point on it seemed.. logical to concentrate on my work and keep emotional strings to the minimum."
"I didn't know..." She tried to think of something comforting to say, something uplifting, but her mind was completely blank with the shock of what she had just heard. His wife was dead and they'd had a child?
A child.
"There is no reason why you should." He poured them both a glass of champagne as he spoke, his movements perfectly controlled and calm although
Lydia knew, somehow, that despite appearances he wasn't feeling like that inside.
"As I said, it was a long time ago." He smiled, but it didn't reach the beautiful blue eyes.
"Life goes on."
"I'm so sorry, Wolf." Her eyes were luminous with unshed tears; she actually felt the pain he must have suffered, and as he gazed into her white face he was completely still for a moment before gesturing abruptly, his voice suddenly harsh.
"No need." He picked up her glass and placed it in her hand, his face suddenly closed and cold.