She laughed and clinked her glass against his, but when their eyes met, the laughter died in her throat. She recognized the male hunger she read in his eyes. She'd seen it before without feeling overwhelmed. Manipulating men away from the brink was a fine talent she'd developed over the years, and she was usually fairly confident of her abil ity to avoid unpleasantness.
This was a little different. For some strange reason, her pulse was pounding. Something was fluttering inside her, throwing her off her stride. She carefully placed the wine glass down on the table and spread her flattened hands against the cool wood, staring at them.
"I guess we ought to talk about the job," she said, her voice suddenly prim and businesslike. "About just what you'll be doing."
"If you'd like." Amusement colored his tone. She glanced at him sharply. There was no laughter evident in his eyes, but she went on.
"The first thing you've got to understand is that Aunt Doris is sort of a rigid person. She likes things done right. She cares about honesty, integrity and good table man ners, in that order." She sighed, feeling better now that she was back on firm ground, and she looked up at Ross. "How does that fit in with your plans?"
He took a slow sip, but his gaze didn't leave her face. "Well, the honesty goes without saying." He felt another twinge of guilt, but what could he do? "The integrity-I think I can stand on my reputation there. The good table manners I could work on."
She looked relieved. "Could you? I know it's hard for people who haven't been brought up that way."
He grinned. "What makes you think I wasn't brought up with good manners?"
"Oh! I didn't mean..."
She reached out and touched his arm. That was a mistake. His flesh felt warm and alive under the crisp fabric of his shirt. She pulled her hand back quickly.
"Listen, I'm the one who wasn't brought up with good manners. I wasn't brought up with any manners at all. I lived in thatched huts all over the South Pacific as a child. I spent most of my toddling years careening about the reef, reaching out my chubby little hands for the bright fishes in the lagoons. What do I know about manners? The only thing I have going for me is common sense, and that's never good enough for Aunt Doris."
Ross shifted his position, thrusting his long legs out un der the table and leaning against the couch. Through sheer l uck, that brought him even closer to where Charity was sitting, but she didn't notice in time to do anything about it. When he turned toward her again, she could feel his breath stir her hair.