Once they were back in the hotel suite, Stephanie immediately slipped off her shoes. They were new, and pinched her heel. Sitting on the sofa, she crossed her legs and rubbed the tender portion of her foot, suspecting a blister.
On the other side of the room Jonas was drilling Adam about one thing or another. She couldn’t have cared less. But she had noticed that his gaze rested on her slender legs. When he realized she’d caught the direction of his glance, he turned his head. He looked tired, worn down. She wanted to suggest that he take this evening to rest, but after her comment that morning about his cane, she realized she’d be pressing her luck. She was too weary to fight with Jonas now.
“I’ll get that statement for you as quickly as possible,” Adam said, rising to his feet.
“Thanks.”
The room seemed oddly quiet after Adam left.
“Miss Coulter, order a car.”
Stephanie couldn’t believe it. The man was a slave driver. Reaching for the phone, she contacted the desk and asked that they have a car available. “How soon do you want it?” she asked, holding the receiver to her breast.
“Immediately.”
She glared angrily at him. Not everyone was accustomed to his pace. She was tired, hungry, and not in the most congenial mood.
“Will you be requiring my services?” She didn’t bother to hide the resentment in her voice.
“Naturally, I’ll need you to translate for me.”
“Do you mind if I eat something first?” she asked as she reached for her shoes.
“Yes, I would.”
Her gaze narrowed with frustration. “What is it with you? Maybe you can work all hours of the night and day, but others have limitations.”
His mouth thinned, revealing his irritation; he picked up his cane. “Then stay.”
As much as she would have liked to do exactly that, Stephanie couldn’t. Reluctantly she followed him. “Miss Coulter—” she mimicked his low voice sarcastically “—you’ve done a wonderful job today. Let me express my deepest appreciation. You deserve a break.” She paused to eye him. The stone mask was locked tightly in place. “Why, thank you, Mr. Lockwood. Everyone needs a few words of encouragement now and then, and you seem to know just when I need them most. It’s been a long grueling day, but those few words of appreciation seem to have made everything worthwhile.”
“Are you through, Miss Coulter?” he asked sharply as they stepped into the elevator.
“Quite through.” Her back was stiff and straight as they descended. She was tired, her feet ached, and she was hungry. For the last eleven hours, she’d been at his beck and call. What more could he possibly expect from her now? Apparently she was soon to discover the answer.
The driver was waiting outside the hotel when they approached. He held open the door, and Stephanie climbed inside. Jonas paused to speak to the driver, but what he said and whether the driver understood him didn’t concern her at the moment. If he needed her to translate, he’d ask. Asking was something Jonas had no problem doing.
They’d gone only a few blocks when the driver pulled to the curb and parked. They were in front of an elegant restaurant. Tiny tables were set outside the door, and white-coated waiters with red cloths draped over their forearms stood in attendance, watching for the smallest hint of a request. Stephanie blinked twice. Exhausted and dispirited, she didn’t know if she could bear another meeting now. As it was, her stomach would growl through the entire affair.
“Well, Miss Coulter,” Jonas said, climbing agilely out of the car. “I did hear you say you were hungry, right?”
Stunned, Stephanie didn’t move. “We’re dining here?”
“That is, unless you have any objections?” He suddenly looked bored with the entire process.
“No... I’m starved.”
“I believe you’ve already stated as much. I have a reservation, unless you’d prefer eating in the car.”
“I’m coming.” This was almost too good to be true. Eagerly she made her way onto the pavement. As they walked into the plush interior, Stephanie’s gaze fell longingly on an empty table outside the restaurant.
Jonas surprised her by asking, “Would you prefer to dine outside?”
“Yes, I’d like that.”
Jonas spoke to the maitre d’, who led them to the table and politely held out Stephanie’s chair for her. He handed each of them a menu. She was so hungry that her gaze quickly scanned the contents. “Oh, I do love vichyssoise,” she said aloud, biting into her lower lip.
Before she knew what was happening, Jonas had attracted the waiter’s attention and gestured with his hands. “A bowl of vichyssoise for the lady.”
“Jonas,” she said, shocked. “Why did you do that?”
“From the way you were acting, I was afraid you were about to keel over from hunger.”
“I am,” she admitted, her gaze going up one side of the menu and down the other. “Everything looks wonderful.”
“What would you like?”
“I can’t decide between a huge spinach salad or a whole chicken.”