little bit. ‘Well...I like bubblegum ice cream.’
‘Bubblegum?’ His jaw dropped theatrically. ‘You have got to be kidding me.’
‘It’s delicious.’
‘It’s way too sweet—’
She leaned forward. ‘And pink and sugary and with little bits of gum in the ice cream. Yum.’
‘Whoa.’ He held up a hand. ‘TMI.’
A bubble of laughter erupted from her, surprising them both. He smiled, a real smile, lightening his stern features in a way that made her feel suddenly breathless. His dark eyes glinted gold. She shook her head slowly. ‘I didn’t think you had a sense of humour, you know.’
‘It’s a shy creature. It only appears on rare occasions.’
‘So it does.’ She gazed at him thoughtfully. ‘What’s your favourite flavour of ice cream?’
‘Not bubblegum.’
‘We’ve established that.’
‘Probably vanilla.’
‘Vanilla?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Could you be more boring?’
His mouth twitched. ‘Probably not.’
‘What’s there to like about vanilla?’
‘It never lets you down. Other flavours can be so disappointing. Not enough mint in the mint chocolate chip, too many nuts in Rocky Road.’
‘I have been seriously disappointed, on occasion, with the lack of cookie dough in cookie dough ice cream.’
‘Exactly.’ He nodded his approval. ‘But vanilla? Never a disappointment. Completely trustworthy.’
Like you are? She almost said the words. And meant them. No snide mockery, just truth. Too much truth. She wasn’t ready for that.
‘Well.’ She shifted in her seat, gave him a breezy smile. ‘Now we’ve broken the ice.’
‘Or the ice cream.’
‘That was a seriously weak joke.’
‘I told you, my sense of humour only appears on rare occasions. Anyway—’ he glanced at her as he took a sip of champagne ‘—can you eat bubblegum ice cream? Or does that send your glucose levels through the roof?’
‘Everything in moderation.’
He nodded towards the handbag at her feet. ‘I should have asked before, but did you bring everything you need?’
She nodded. ‘I have a little kit for testing my blood. It travels easily.’
‘When were you diagnosed?’
‘When I was seventeen.’ She swallowed, remembering those awful early days. At the time she’d just been moving from one event to another, dazed, incredulous, hopeful and yet still afraid.
Too late she realised Luke was watching her face, and she knew he could see the emotions in her eyes. Emotions she’d meant to hide. ‘Anyway,’ she said, apropos of nothing.
‘How did it happen?’
‘The usual symptoms. Weight loss, excessive thirst, dizzy spells.’
His eyes narrowed, and she could almost see his mind working. Understanding. ‘And the tabloids claimed you had anorexia. A drinking problem. A drug overdose.’
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. ‘That’s what they like to do. And in any case I haven’t been a saint.’ She lifted her chin a notch, tried to smile again, but her heart was thudding hard.
Luke gazed at her steadily. ‘Who has?’
‘You seem to have been a regular Boy Scout.’
‘No, not a Boy Scout.’ He rubbed his jaw, a movement that Aurelie couldn’t help but notice was inherently sexy. Although, perhaps the sexiest thing about Luke Bryant was how unaware he seemed of his own attractiveness. He moved with unconscious grace, and her gaze was helplessly drawn to the shrug of his broad shoulders, the reassuring squareness of his jaw. Everything about him solid and strong. Safe.
‘Why haven’t you ever talked about your diabetes publicly? Issued a statement?’
She leaned her head back against the seat, suddenly tired. ‘It’s quite a boring disease.’
‘Boring?’
‘Much more interesting to let them wonder. So my agent told me.’
‘Your agent sucked.’
She let out a surprised laugh. ‘Yeah, he wasn’t that great. I fired him a couple of years ago.’
‘You could have said something since then.’
She opened her eyes. ‘Maybe I didn’t want
‘Bubblegum?’ His jaw dropped theatrically. ‘You have got to be kidding me.’
‘It’s delicious.’
‘It’s way too sweet—’
She leaned forward. ‘And pink and sugary and with little bits of gum in the ice cream. Yum.’
‘Whoa.’ He held up a hand. ‘TMI.’
A bubble of laughter erupted from her, surprising them both. He smiled, a real smile, lightening his stern features in a way that made her feel suddenly breathless. His dark eyes glinted gold. She shook her head slowly. ‘I didn’t think you had a sense of humour, you know.’
‘It’s a shy creature. It only appears on rare occasions.’
‘So it does.’ She gazed at him thoughtfully. ‘What’s your favourite flavour of ice cream?’
‘Not bubblegum.’
‘We’ve established that.’
‘Probably vanilla.’
‘Vanilla?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Could you be more boring?’
His mouth twitched. ‘Probably not.’
‘What’s there to like about vanilla?’
‘It never lets you down. Other flavours can be so disappointing. Not enough mint in the mint chocolate chip, too many nuts in Rocky Road.’
‘I have been seriously disappointed, on occasion, with the lack of cookie dough in cookie dough ice cream.’
‘Exactly.’ He nodded his approval. ‘But vanilla? Never a disappointment. Completely trustworthy.’
Like you are? She almost said the words. And meant them. No snide mockery, just truth. Too much truth. She wasn’t ready for that.
‘Well.’ She shifted in her seat, gave him a breezy smile. ‘Now we’ve broken the ice.’
‘Or the ice cream.’
‘That was a seriously weak joke.’
‘I told you, my sense of humour only appears on rare occasions. Anyway—’ he glanced at her as he took a sip of champagne ‘—can you eat bubblegum ice cream? Or does that send your glucose levels through the roof?’
‘Everything in moderation.’
He nodded towards the handbag at her feet. ‘I should have asked before, but did you bring everything you need?’
She nodded. ‘I have a little kit for testing my blood. It travels easily.’
‘When were you diagnosed?’
‘When I was seventeen.’ She swallowed, remembering those awful early days. At the time she’d just been moving from one event to another, dazed, incredulous, hopeful and yet still afraid.
Too late she realised Luke was watching her face, and she knew he could see the emotions in her eyes. Emotions she’d meant to hide. ‘Anyway,’ she said, apropos of nothing.
‘How did it happen?’
‘The usual symptoms. Weight loss, excessive thirst, dizzy spells.’
His eyes narrowed, and she could almost see his mind working. Understanding. ‘And the tabloids claimed you had anorexia. A drinking problem. A drug overdose.’
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. ‘That’s what they like to do. And in any case I haven’t been a saint.’ She lifted her chin a notch, tried to smile again, but her heart was thudding hard.
Luke gazed at her steadily. ‘Who has?’
‘You seem to have been a regular Boy Scout.’
‘No, not a Boy Scout.’ He rubbed his jaw, a movement that Aurelie couldn’t help but notice was inherently sexy. Although, perhaps the sexiest thing about Luke Bryant was how unaware he seemed of his own attractiveness. He moved with unconscious grace, and her gaze was helplessly drawn to the shrug of his broad shoulders, the reassuring squareness of his jaw. Everything about him solid and strong. Safe.
‘Why haven’t you ever talked about your diabetes publicly? Issued a statement?’
She leaned her head back against the seat, suddenly tired. ‘It’s quite a boring disease.’
‘Boring?’
‘Much more interesting to let them wonder. So my agent told me.’
‘Your agent sucked.’
She let out a surprised laugh. ‘Yeah, he wasn’t that great. I fired him a couple of years ago.’
‘You could have said something since then.’
She opened her eyes. ‘Maybe I didn’t want
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