Camila shook her head. “Nope. You chose wrong, and so did I, since we both like each other’s more.”
“Ah.” James tipped his head back. “This is opinion based. Of course.” He took another bite, enjoying—just as much as he had the first time—the burst of tangy sweetness.
“You know what I liked most about that dish,” he said, resting the fork onto the plate once he was done. He rested the linen napkin on the plate as well.
“What’s that?” Camila asked.
“It reminds me of you. Sweet, of course, but with some sassy tartness to keep things interesting.”
“Whoa,” she said. “Spoken like a real foodie.”
Camila rested her napkin over the dish and spoon with a nod. “Okay, well, I’ll have to admit a similar thing then.”
James liked where she was going already. At least, he thought he did. “How so?”
“I usually stay away from chocolate dishes. They’re too…rich for my taste.” She shot him a pointed look, and as playful as it was, James realized she was revealing something to him then. He leaned in, put his next breath on hold, and inwardly willed her to tell him more.
“This one was different,” she continued. “Not as dense as I’m used to, but still dark and mysterious.”
He tried to unravel what she’d said. “So basically, I’m not dense.”
“Basically.” Camila rested her hands on the armrests at either side of her, indicating she was ready to stand. But there was more James wanted to hear.
“Did you mean it,” he asked, hurrying to his feet to pull her chair from the table. He offered his hand to her, and Camila took it.
“Mean what?” she asked.
James led her to the seating area along the open bough, wondering if he really wanted the answer to his question. Camila settled into the couch first, angling herself toward the center. He did the same.
“James?” Camila rested a hand on his leg, her expression growing concerned.
A battle warred in his mind. Did he want to dive into a topic that could, if nothing else, point to the ways theydidn’tmatch up?
“You don’t normally date rich guys,” he said. “Right?” He didn’t like how it sounded aloud.
She nodded. “Um hmm. And I’m guessing you normally only date women like Adel. Is that because it’s better for your image? To have someone famous at your side, I mean.”
James shook his head, but as he considered the more accurate reason he dated women like Adel, he wished he’d have just nodded and agreed instead.
“So what, then? She seems to be more sour than sweet.”
“Yeah, her personality is…not what I’m attracted to. But I’ve had to be careful over the years. All of us have. It’s probably why none of us are married.” He pulled his gaze off her and looked out over the water. It was getting darker now, harder to see much but reflections of light dancing randomly over the surface.
“My siblings and I—we don’t want to fall for anyone who’s more into our money than they are us.”
“Oh.” The single word came out in a hush. Like an afterthought. “Dating women with money helps you avoid gold diggers,” she added.
James shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows?” When he met her gaze once more, he swore he spotted hurt in her eyes. Or maybe it was that guard she’d had up earlier, coming back into place.
He rested his hand on top of hers, toyed with the thin gold band she wore on her middle finger. “I’m not worried about that with you,” he assured. “If you were someone out to get what she could from the billionaire she’d just started working for…” He squeezed her hand, chuckled under his breath. “You wouldn’t have challenged me like you did when you arrived. I think, in some ways, it knocked down that barrier from the get-go. At least, for me.”
She smiled. And just like that the guard was gone. The warmth he was growing very fond of returned. A softness in the set of her lids, the ease of her grin.
“I want to know more about you.” It came out in a whisper.
That dimple sank into her cheek. “Where do you want to start?”
A hot thrill shot through him. It felt as if he’d just gained backstage access to his favorite band. He wanted to know it all. Everything, anything. Whatever she was willing to share.
