“I’d say it’s natural enough because I’m sitting here with the most beautiful woman in the
room.”
“Good. That’s very good. A popular standard for a reason.”
He laid his hand on hers on the table. “I know who I’m looking at.”
Undone, she turned her hand over to link her fingers with his. “Thanks.”
Let them wonder, she thought. Let them talk. She had what she’d always wanted right in her
hand.
They ate, sampling each other’s choices, sipping good wine, talking about whatever came to
mind. They’d always been able to talk, Laurel mused, about anything and everything. She
found herself able to put that glass wall around them, close everyone else out on the other side
and savor the interlude as much as the meal.
Ben set a trio of mini soufflés on the table. “Compliments of Charles, the dessert chef. He
heard you were here and wanted to do something special for you. He’s a little nervous,” Ben
added, lowering his voice as he leaned down.