The Billionaire's Bridal Bid by Emily McKay Page B

tell her the truth or she wouldn’t have been winking at me about how charming and romantic our reunion is.”
    He gave a c’est la vie shrug. “I may have left out a few details.”
    “Like what? Our mutual hatred and belligerence?”
    He gave an exaggerated wince. “Now that’s a little strong, don’t you think?”
    “No, I don’t think—”
    “Now that’s the spirit. Don’t think.” He held an amuse-bouche toward her. “Here try this.”
    She wanted to protest, but when she opened her mouth he popped the bite in. The tiny dollop of goat cheese melted in her mouth, contrasting perfectly with the crisp fresh asparagus. Her eyes drifted closed as she savored the experience.
    “See?” he said. “I knew you’d love it. Suzy’s—”
    His cell phone rang and he broke off with a frown. He pulled his iPhone out of his breast pocket and glanced at it. He frowned—for an instant his expression of intense concern flickered across his face, giving her a glimpseof the driven young man she’d known so many years ago. Then it vanished and he continued talking. “Suzy’s one of the most talented chefs on this coast.”
    As he extolled the merits of Market—of which Claire was all too aware—he fiddled with his phone, turning it to vibrate. He slipped it back into his pocket. He was still talking a moment later when it gave a faint beep.
    She raised her eyebrows. “Shouldn’t you get that?” she asked as a waiter set a plate of appetizers in front of them.
    “I don’t take business calls on dates.”
    She was too hungry and too tempted by the food to ignore it, so she dug right in. In all likelihood, she’d never eat like this again; she might as well enjoy it.
    “But this isn’t really a date,” she said. “And unless I’m mistaken, they called and sent you a text message in the past two minutes. It must be important.”
    “It’s work,” he said stiffly. “It’ll wait.”
    When they’d dated in college, he’d been so passionate about the work FMJ did, work had never waited. He’d been on fire with the determination to solve new engineering problems. To invent. To create. To fix all the things wrong with the world, which he believed FMJ could do with the right funding and resources.
    “What is it?” she surprised herself by asking. Not curiosity, she told herself. She was merely being polite. “This project you’re working on? It’s important enough that someone on your team is working on it on a Saturday night. So what is it?”
    He sat back, his appetizer untouched, his arms crossed over his chest. “No woman wants to hear about some geeky science project over dinner.”
    The bite of Dungeness crab turned to sponge in her mouth. She set down her fork and sat back. Bringing hernapkin to her face, she wiped at her lips. “I said that to you.”
    He lifted his glass of wine as if to toast her and then took several long swallows. When he set down his glass, he smiled with only a tinge of bitterness. “I should thank you. It’s some of the best advice I ever got about women.”
    “Matt, I—” Christ, what had she done? He used to love talking about his work. “I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be. It was great advice.” He shoved a bite of the appetizer into his mouth without even a glimmer of satisfaction.
    “It wasn’t advice. It was—” She broke off, dropping her hands into her lap.
    When she’d left him, she’d been so worried he’d want to follow. She’d been so sure he wouldn’t really let her go that she’d said things she knew would hurt him. That had seemed like the only way to make a clean break.
    Now, hearing her words thrown back at her, she realized what she’d done. That womanizing playboy he’d become after she left—that guy she hated so much—she’d helped create him. She’d made Matt believe that she didn’t want to be with the geeky brilliant scientist. And she’d been so convincing, he’d transformed himself into this suave playboy as a result.
    “You