He wondered if she knew how she looked telling her story; her wide eyes looking away from him—sad and childlike, as was the constant swallowing and straightening of shoulders, as though what she was saying would get her in trouble somehow. Either that or she was terrified of losing control, determined to keep her more fragile self together—while keeping everyone else out.April Worth had taken the art of being composed to a whole new level.She turned away from him and headed to the bar area. Once there, cool as the granite countertop she stood beside, she said, “Shall I order dinner or would you prefer to go out?” It was as if she’d put up a stop sign, closing off memory lane, a road she hadn’t liked traveling in the first place.“I take it we’re done talking,” he said.“I’m done. We haven’t started on you yet,” she said, adding, “Dinner. In or out?”“In.”She picked up the phone, raised a questioning brow.“A steak. Medium. Some vegetables.”He watched her place their order and wondered how the hell he was going to eat.
