She frowned. “Emb—”
“Don’t.” He cut her off with a sharp word and an involuntary jerk of his arm. “Don’t make me think about it. I’m still trying to calm down.”
Oh. Nina sat back and then darted a quick glance at his dark trousers. Good thing they weren’t skinny-fit, huh? He was still aroused—and he was fighting as hard as she was to regain control.
Her pesky doubts eased. She relaxed into the seat and smiled. “So what did you tell your aunt about me?”
Now his expression went sheepish. “That we met at the hospital. You’re a surgeon.”
Nina jerked up and choked on nothing but air.
“Don’t worry.” He glanced at her in mild concern. “She really doesn’t speak much English. You’ll be fine.”
“What sort of surgeon am I?” she wheezed, fanning her face with her fingers.
He had the grace to look slightly ashamed. “Brain surgeon.”
“At the age of twenty-four?” she shrieked. “Wow. I always wanted to be a child prodigy, but this is pushing it.”
He laughed. Hunching forward, his shoulders shook as he laughed hard.
Of course, that made her want to laugh too—all her earlier anger and hurt pride dissolved. “This is insane. I can’t possibly pretend to be a brain surgeon.”
“Of course you can,” he leaned back, still smiling. “She won’t ask you about it. To her, a brain surgeon is a nightmare. They want me to meet some woman who wants nothing but babies and who’ll drag me back to Spain. The last thing they want is me with a career woman. Especially not one in medicine.”
“You don’t want babies and a villa in Spain?”
He didn’t need to answer, his face said it all. What had put him off kids so vehemently?
“Nor do I,” she admitted. At least not in the foreseeable future. “But a holiday home in the sun could be good, though.” Then she went back to panicking about the scam ahead. “I don’t know the first thing about brain surgery.”
“Don’t worry.” He reached for his wallet to pay the driver. “I don’t really care what she thinks.”
“If that’s the case, why am I here?” she challenged. “Why are you here?”
He sighed. “Because even though I avoid them as much as I can, family is family. And they can guilt trip like no one else.”
She understood that. “It’s their sole purpose in life.”
“Yours too?”
“Why do you think I’m so far from home? I tried so hard to please my mother, I couldn’t be myself.” She’d gone abroad with Corey and thought she was free—only he hadn’t wanted the person she really was. Boring, not good enough in bed. He’d struck so hard and left her vulnerable to such horrid doubts.
“Then let’s go and make it fun, okay?” he invited.
That’s right. Some light, playful, fantasy fun. Not sensible. Not boring.
Nina was glad of Eduardo’s hand resting on the small of her back as they walked into the restaurant. She could handle the zinging sensation down her spine this time because she needed the implied support. Posh wasn’t the word for this place.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath as he looked across the tables.
“What’s wrong?”
“She’s brought a date for me anyway.”
“Maybe she suspected your story,” Nina mocked. “Shall I leave?”
“No.” He slid his arm right round her waist, practically pinning her to him. “The date is Gabi—my aunt’s niece. A cousin by marriage. She’s very nice.”
Gabi wasn’t “nice.” Gabi was completely stunning—like Victoria’s Secret stunning. Worse, Gabi spoke English.
“So lovely to meet you at last.” Gabi smiled at her as they got to the table, her accent as light as Eduardo’s.
Nina smiled back, including the aunt in her greeting. The tiny woman was dressed immaculately in Chanel from head to toe. Nina didn’t miss the swift appraisal the older woman gave her own dress. No. Brain surgeons could afford more than the off-the-rack LBD she’d thought she rocked. Still, what did it matter?
Actually, it didn’t matter at all, did it? Released from all expectation of the usual polite, society veneer, Nina giggled as she took a seat. Why not enjoy this? Why not relax and not care about what anyone really thought?
The idea was liberating, exhilarating, intoxicating.
Eduardo shot her an inquiring glance—having heard her amusement—but she lightly shrugged her shoulders and set about chatting to Gabi. It was pretty easy to keep conversation safe by asking the model lookalike all the questions—about her work and then about the best European travel spots and tips for each.
“What is it you like so much about traveling?” Gabi said, laughing.
“The food,” Nina answered promptly and honestly.
“But you’ve not been to Spain? Then you’ve not had the best.”
No. Some warmed olives probably didn’t count.
“Eduardo.” The doe-eyed beauty leaned across the table to chide him.
“Don’t worry, Gabi,” he answered with a smile. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Be sure you do.”
“You haven’t been to Spain in months.” His aunt—Graciela—interrupted in staccato, arctic tones. She spoke deliberately, in English, sending Nina an accusing glance.
“I’ve been very busy,” Eduardo carefully answered.
Nina swallowed, her nerves pinging as she listened to the interplay between him and his aunt. There were hardly undercurrents here. It was more a tsunami of conflict and she was over her head—especially given she didn’t have a clue as to what it was all about.
Fortunately, she was saved by the first course being served. Everyone leaned forward in anticipation. And as the meal progressed, Nina realized her presence wasn’t strictly necessary at this point—because the conversation was purely about the food. Deservedly so. It was exquisite. Nina could foodie it up with the best of them and she could definitely live with the rock on her finger and the fraudulent brain surgeon career if it meant she’d dine like this every other night.
Small, insanely delicious servings. They deserved many more than three stars of superiority. Nina savored every morsel, trying to decide if she felt
