He must have seen in my eyes that I was weakening.
“We could start with breakfast,” he said, almost hopefully. “Who knows, I might be able to get through a whole meal without making you mad at me.”
“It seems unlikely,” I replied, a reluctant smile creeping across my face.
He grinned back.
“You gonna wear that robe? Not that I give a shit – you could go naked for all I care. In fact…”
I groaned. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll see you in ten minutes.”
“Want me to scrub your back?”
“Sebastian, I thought you were going to try and make it through breakfast before making me mad at you – right now your adolescent flirting is just annoying.”
He grinned at me, but held his hands up in a gesture of defeat. “Okay, I get the message. I’ll see you downstairs.”
He turned on his heel, and strode off towards the stairs, whistling to himself.
God, he was annoying. And cute. But mostly annoying.
I took my time getting ready; I wanted to test his threshold of tolerance. I dressed slowly, checked my messages and took a moment to email my editor – again. It was nearly half an hour before I made it down to the hotel’s restaurant for breakfast.
He was gazing out of the window, an untouched cup of black coffee in front of him.
I took a moment to drink in his beauty, which seemed almost otherworldly in the low light of early morning. His eyes were softer than I’d seen them in the last few days, and had a faraway expression that suggested he was lost in memories. His short, Marine-style hair was golden blond, no doubt bleached by a foreign sun, and his full, sensual lips were slightly parted. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, his hands relaxed in his lap.
When he saw me, his eyes brightened and he stood up politely.
“You look great,” he said.
Yeah, in old jeans and a T-shirt.
I rolled my eyes at him, and his smile slipped a notch.
“Did you order yet?”
“No, just the coffee: I was waiting for you.”
“I usually have the continental breakfast.”
He waved to the waitress, who was unusually attentive. I got the impression she’d been watching us. Well, watching him.
Plus ?a change.
“Was there anything in particular you wanted to see in Geneva?” he said, once the waitress had left with our order.
“You have to make it through breakfast without being irritating first,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, well, I like a challenge,” he said, smiling. “Seriously: anything you want to see?”
“Not especially: I saw quite a lot wandering around yesterday. The Russian Church, maybe? I hear that’s pretty amazing.”
He fiddled with his napkin, then looked up.
“I had an idea of something we could do – if you like.”
“Which is?”
“How about a trip to Chamonix? It’s only an hour away – or just a bit longer if we take the scenic route through Lausanne. It’ll be a really great trip through the Alps.” He grinned at me. “I’ll have you back before bedtime.”
Nope. Still annoying. But I couldn’t resist his enthusiasm and playfulness. Plus, I’d heard that the road to Chamonix was particularly stunning, and I liked the idea of getting out of the city.
“And you absolutely promise you’ll bring me back here by evening? No accidentally running out of gas or getting lost.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, with a look on his face that made me doubt every syllable.
“Okay, but I’m serious about getting back: I’m waiting for my travel permits and I can’t afford to miss them.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Caro, I’ll get you back here tonight, I promise.”
Our breakfast arrived and Sebastian proceeded with alacrity, chowing down on anything that didn’t move.
Something else that hadn’t changed.
“Tell me about Ches’s kids,” I said, trying for some relaxed conversation, but also genuinely curious.