Thea pursed her lips. “Would you though? You don’t seem like someone who’d give up that easily. Not if you wanted something.”
His lips tipped up, and he nodded. “You may be right, but I promise, if you say no, I’ll just pine from afar and try not to make myself too annoying.”
Thea raked her eyes over his face. In the lantern light, his skin glowed a pale gold, and his full lips met in a delicious half-smile. Felix was hers for the taking. But no matter how her body yearned for him or how much her heart beat for him, how could she be sure he was where her and Ammy’s future lay?
Josh had told her to put herself on the line for a chance at a happily ever after. Ammy’s face had been full of certainty as she’d clung onto Felix after running away. That her daughter was ready to put her faith in someone she barely knew made her pulse jump. Maybe Thea should take a leaf out of Ammy’s book.
After a long beat, she nodded. “Okay.”
“Thank you,” Felix said, settling Thea down on the hay pile. It was like sinking into a comfy couch.
As she reclined back, the soft grass cushioned her, and the stray edges that peeked out from the blankets tickled at the back of her arms. “So, what’s first?”
Felix crouched down and poured her a large glass of wine before joining her on the blankets. As he leaned back, the smell of his cologne and the heat of his skin pressed in on her, and she breathed him in.
“I think we start with a full and solid discussion of all your concerns.”
Thea’s lips trembled. Felix was definitely boardroom-ready. He’d begun what was possibly the most important talkshe’d had in years, like he was about to present a finance proposal.
“Full? Solid? Such interesting adjectives.”
He threw her a side-long glance before taking a sip of his wine and then putting it down on the floor. “I have to set the right tone to manage your expectations.”
“I see. So far, solid doesn’t seem to have been a problem.”
Something lit in Felix’s eyes. “The Walsh group always aims to please. Prides itself on its performance.”
Thea snickered. “I’ll be the judge of any attempts to please, thank you. Not to mention any performance appraisals.” She sipped her wine, running her tongue along her top lip. “Very nice. Dry. Chenin Blanc, I think. Cold climate. New world? Australian perhaps.”
Felix’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open a little. He looked down at the bottle on the floor as if to check whether she’d read the label. “I wasn’t aware you knew so much about wines.”
Thea smirked. “You never asked. Just assumed I wouldn’t have a clue. Your behaviour at the school meeting was arrogant. It annoyed me so much I chose not to educate you to the contrary. I went for the cocktails instead.”
Felix turned towards her, resting his head in his palm. “You’re right. I judged you before I’d even got to know you.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. We’re all guilty of that.” Hadn’t she thought he was an awful grump? “But I like to think I have hidden talents.”
Felix sucked in a breath between his teeth, taking the glass she held out to him. “I think I’ve sampled a few of those.”
At the low resonance of his voice, Thea’s heart tottered. Who needed a full and solid discussion? She’d rather just jump on him right now and show him one or two more of her hidden talents. Despite her misgivings, Felix Walsh was most definitely her brand of catnip.
He sat up and placed her drink next to his on the floor. “Are you hungry?”
Thea sat up, too, looked over at the plates of food on the low table, and burst out laughing. Felix had arranged slices of sausage roll and Swiss roll alongside micro herbs and delicately carved strawberries. “Far out! You didn’t?”
Felix grinned, leaning back on the blanket, eyes glued to hers. “What?”
“Sausage roll?”
“Isn’t that our spirit food? I remember there being a lot of talk about my sausage at the school.”
“But surely this isn’t Michelin star cooking? I thought you were the consummate professional with a reputation to uphold. What wouldCondé Nastsay if they saw you now?”
Thea lay back down, and Felix reached to touch her arm, his fingers brushing across her bare skin. “I have no interest inCondé Nast.I only care whatyouthink of me. Yours is the only five-star review I want.”
Their gazes hung on one another, their breath mingling in the space between their lips. It would be so easy to lean in and kiss him. To let out all the desire she’d quashed since their weekend in London. They had a lot to discuss, but her will to resist, to turn down the love and safety he offered, was slipping away by the millisecond.
“So, where do we begin?” she murmured, willing herself to keep focused on the reason they were here.
