Page 37 of For Your Eyes Only
His eyebrows flicker, and I press my lips together before taking another sip of wine. The warmth of the alcohol is helping me relax, helping me play along, and my fingers don’t tremble as I raise the glass this time.
He does the same, and I get the ball rolling. “So what do you do for fun? Any hobbies?”
“I don’t know that I have actual hobbies. I can do a few card tricks. The summer I turned twelve, I taught myself to juggle.”
“You’re kidding? You can juggle?”
“It was a very boring summer.”
“I can’t imagine being bored in New York City.”
“You’d be surprised. There’s a lot to do, but after a while, you’ve done it all.” His words settle between us, heavy with meaning, but his smile redirects the mood. “What about you? What’s your hobby?”
“Dance.”
“Of course. Anything else? Baking, knife throwing?”
A short laugh huffs through my lips. “My mother taught me to make biscotti, but I never could seem to get the hang of knife throwing.”
“It’s all in the wrist.” He winks as the waiter places our food in front of us.
Fresh cracked pepper, more wine, and the server disappears. My stomach is way more relaxed after my glass of wine, and I take a bite of fish.
It’s rich and buttery, and I exhale a groan. “So good.”
His eyes fix on mine, and my nipples tighten in my dress. Michele’s comment about how I respond to delicious flavors flashes in my memory.Orgasmic. I wouldn’t say my fish is pure sex, but the look Trip’s giving me definitely is.
“Do you like your swordfish?” My voice wobbles, so I clear my throat and try again. “Is it good?”
“Clearly not as good as yours.”
My cheeks flush, and I take another bite, stifling my response to the taste.
He does the same then lifts his wine glass, leaning back in his chair again. My eyes lift, and his playful expression is gone.
“Were you brought to this country against your will?” He watches my face.
“What?” I exhale a laugh. I didn’t expect him to go there, especially not after that heated look. “I told you I came here to join the BCA.”
“Gia?”
“Trip?” I imitate his tone.
“That’s not an answer to my question.”
“No, I was not brought here against my will. Good lord.”
His brow quirks, and I can’t tell if he believes me. “But you’re not in a rush to get back to Italy.”
“Well, I mean, I am, but maybe I can wait and see what happens here. I’ve got a job, I’m making a little money…”Understatement of the year.“Bianca and I are good roommates, and I don’t know. I thought I might try to stay, maybe audition for another company when the time comes.”
“I see.” He relaxes a bit more, and his playful side returns. “What was your first job? Have you always been a seamstress?”
“That’s two questions.” I sip more wine. “No, I have not always been a seamstress. I think my first job was…” I wrinkle my nose, glancing up to the ceiling. “Babysitting?”
He watches me with that look again—like he thinks I’m amusing, but he also wants to do dirty things to me. It makes me shift in my chair. “What about you?”
“I have never had to babysit anyone. Correction, I’ve never had to babysit children.”