‘Tell me you’re joking.’ His tone was so dry it could have mopped up an oil spill.
Ivy gave him a cheeky smile. ‘I’m joking. But, hey, what sort of Frenchman are you to turn your nose up at escargots?’
‘I’m only half-French. My mother is English.’ He picked up the wine list and opened it. ‘The only time I ate snails was when my father insisted on it when I was six years old.’
‘And?’
He didn’t stop looking at the menu, but she had a feeling he wasn’t registering a single word written there. His features tightened as if he was trying to keep an unpleasant memory contained. ‘I was violently ill.’
‘Are you allergic to them or something?’
Louis put the menu down and met her gaze with a now bland expression. ‘No. But, since they’re my father’s favourite dish, I was left in no doubt of how much I’d disappointed him.’ He tapped the wine menu with his fingers. ‘Champagne or white wine...or how about some brandy?’ His grey-blue eyes glinted and something between her legs fluttered like the wings of a moth.
Ivy shifted in her seat, winding her mind back to his earlier comment rather than examine too closely what her body was currently doing. ‘I’ll have white wine. What are your parents like? You’ve never told me anything about them before. Are you close to them?’
He gave a soft grunt that said everything that needed to be said. So too did the bitter twist of his mouth and the ripple of tension along his jaw. ‘I have very little in common with either of them other than DNA.’
The waiter came for the drinks order at that moment and it gave Ivy a chance to surreptitiously study Louis. It occurred to her that she had known him for years—close to a decade—and yet there was still so much about him she didn’t know. He was a reserved type of man, similar to her brother Ronan, which had strengthened the bond between them during her brother’s difficult time in finally embracing his sexuality. But she hadn’t known anything about Louis’ relationship with his family other than he was an only child and that his father ran a large international accounting firm with branches throughout Europe. The unknown aspect of Louis’ character was a timely reminder not to allow her feelings to get involved. But, perversely, it made her all the more fascinated by him. Who was he behind the Mr Amazing One-Night Stand persona?
The waiter left and Ivy picked up the conversation again. ‘Do your parents live here or in France?’
‘They split their time between the two,’ Louis said. ‘My father inherited my grandparents’ chateau in the Loire valley when they died a few years ago. It’s been in our family for five generations.’
‘So, being their only child, you’ll inherit it one day?’
He gave her an inscrutable look. ‘Perhaps.’
Ivy wrinkled her forehead in a frown. ‘Perhaps? What does that mean?’
He let out a slow breath and moved his water glass a quarter turn. ‘It means my father is likely to change his mind after some perceived slight from me, so I don’t have any expectations in that regard. I’ve made my own money. I don’t need his.’
Ivy picked up her own glass of water. ‘Gosh, and here I was thinking my father was a pain in the butt.’ She took a sip of water before putting the glass back down. ‘Not that he was always like that...’
Louis met her gaze. ‘Do you miss him? Ronan told me you used to be really close to him before your parents divorced.’
She found it hard to hold his gaze and looked at the small flower arrangement on the table instead. Her parents divorcing when she was thirteen had been tough, but her father’s rejection of her because of her loyalty to her brother had been the hardest thing she had ever faced. Her father’s love was something she’d thought she’d always be able to rely on, but she’d been wrong. His ultimatum that she cease all contact with Ronan otherwise never see him again had totally blindsided her. To be made to choose between her adored older brother and equally adored father was beyond cruel.
‘I thought he loved me. I really did. I thought he loved both of us, and Mum too back in the day. He used to say Mum’s quirkiness and out-there personality was what attracted him in the first place, but where was his love for her when he had that affair when I was thirteen? Their divorce was bad enough but at least I still got to spend time with my dad on weekend access visits. I never doubted his love for me and Ronan. But, since Ronan told us he was gay two years ago, Dad turned off his love for us like turning off a light switch. I still can’t quite get my head around it. I mean, we’re his flesh and blood, and yet he refuses to have anything to do with us. I feel like I’ve loved someone all my life that I didn’t really know at all.’
Louis reached across the table and covered her hand with the broad expanse of his. The skin on the back of her hand tingled, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, the soft flutter between her legs returning. His eyes were an intense smoky blue—clouds and sky, shadows and sunlight, unknowable depths and shifting shallows.
‘I’m sorry you’ve been so hurt by him. But it’s his problem, not yours. You have to remember you and Ronan did nothing wrong.’
Ivy gave him a wry smile. ‘You should have been a therapist.’
His gaze dipped to her mouth for a brief moment, his own mouth twisting in a rueful half-smile. He removed his hand from hers and sat back in his chair. ‘Yes, well, I’ve been handling difficult people all my life.’
Ivy wanted to ask more about his family, but just then the waiter came back with their wine and, once it was poured, he took their meal order before discreetly melting away again.
Ivy picked up her glass and raised it in a toast. ‘What shall we drink to? One night without strings?’ On the surface she sounded cool and calm about sleeping with him but on the inside her nerves were going haywire. What if she freaked out just as she had the other times? But then she recalled their kiss and thought maybe she wouldn’t freak out. Maybe making love with him would be like kissing him—wonderful, amazing. But how would she know without convincing him to do it?
Louis’ mouth flattened. ‘Here’s the thing—it’s never without strings. It’s rare for two people to want the same thing out of a fling, no matter how short it is.’
‘But as long as we’re clear on the rules from the outset why should it be a problem? I mean, we’re not strangers—we’re friends who will continue to have a relationship once our night together is over.’
One of his ink-black eyebrows rose in a sceptical arc. ‘Will we?’
‘Of course,’ Ivy said. ‘Why wouldn’t we? You’re Ronan’s best friend. I will never forget how much you’ve supported him over the years. You were the first person he came out to, years before he told anyone else. I truly think he wouldn’t have made it without your support and acceptance.’