“When are you seeing them next? Any plans?”

“Hopefully by the end of the year. Perhaps I’ll plan a trip for Christmas, enjoy singing Jingle Bells and Silent Night in a bikini on the beach.”

“Sounds fun.” He smiled.

“Indeed.” Megan sat back as a steaming lasagne was placed in front of her

“What do you think of this then?” James asked, shaking out his napkin.

“It looks amazing.” And it did. Still bubbling and with masses of melted cheese, the meal filled her plate to almost overflowing. “Huge.”

He picked up his knife and fork. “Just have as much as you fancy.”

Chapter Eleven

Megan glanced outside. It was dark now. All the lights were on in the restaurant and the candles gave the place a cosy, seductive glow. The champagne had made her relax as had the easy, flowing conversation with James, and now, with a delicious, fluffy chocolate mousse to enjoy, she was feeling very content.

“This is amazing,” she said, sliding the spoon from her mouth and savouring the rich flavour.

James watched her and licked a spot of cream from his own lips. “So is this.” He indicated the bowl in front of him. “Would you like to try it?”

“Please…” She looked at his tiramisu, which appeared incredibly decadent.

He loaded his spoon with a section from the end he hadn’t started and held it over the table, avoiding knocking over the red rose and the candle that sat between them.

Megan opened her mouth and studied the concentration on his face as he gently fed her the morsel of dessert.

The coffee flavours burst on her tongue and the cream slipped over her palate. She spread the soft textured treat around her mouth and sighed. “Mmm…”

“Good, eh?” he said, smiling and nodding.

“Very.” Now she was torn. She should have ordered that.

Next time.

Next time? Would there be a next time? She hoped so. She wanted to see James again. He was charming yet also at ease with himself, which in turn made her feel comfortable. There was no tension, no worrying if she’d say or do the wrong thing as there had been with Dylan. Plus James gave her the feeling that he was genuinely interested in her. That what she said mattered to him.

Not that she wished to talk about herself. Her curiosity had always been piqued by James Carter—Hot Guy—right from the first moment she’d seen him. Now she needed to know more, to find out everything about him. Not only that, as he spoke she found herself staring at his beautiful mouth, at the hint of stubble that sat over his top lip and jawline, the small mole on his cheek and the tiny lines at the edges of his eyes that deepened when he smiled.