Читать книгу The Billionaire's Bride of Convenience - Miranda Lee - Страница 7

CHAPTER FIVE

NEPTUNE’S was everything Kathryn had thought it would be: very classily decorated, with a magnificent view of Sydney Harbour and a mouth-watering menu that made her uncharacteristically indecisive.

But how did one choose between so many incredible dishes?

Incredibly expensive as well. She wondered what price the wine would be.

‘Stop looking at the prices,’ Hugh said after she’d been staring at the menu for a full five minutes. ‘I don’t give a damn what you order. Just hurry up. I’m starving.’

Still, she dilly-dallied.

‘Why don’t you let me order for you?’ he said somewhat impatiently.

‘Perhaps that would be best,’ she agreed when a waiter materialised at the side of their table.

Hugh told him they were skipping the entrée and going straight to the main course, selecting baby Barramundi, accompanied by an exotic concoction of pasta and vegetables, which she didn’t dare ask the waiter to explain for fear she would sound ignorant. Hugh also ordered some herb bread—to be delivered quickly—and a bottle of red wine which she suspected cost a lot more than the fifteen-to-twenty-dollar specials she always bought from her local wine shop.

The waiter returned with the wine like a shot, Hugh taking his time over the taste-testing before giving his nod for the waiter to pour.

‘I haven’t tried this particular wine before,’ he told her after the waiter departed. ‘A friend recommended it to me. Tell me what you think.’

When Kathryn took her first sip, she literally sighed with appreciation. ‘Oh, it’s lovely.’

‘I’ve had better,’ Hugh said. ‘But it’s not bad. Aah, here comes our bread. And just in time. I’ll need something to soak up the alcohol, if I’m going to drive you home afterwards.’

Kathryn almost spilled her wine. Which would have been a complete travesty. ‘You don’t have to do that,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I can easily take the train. I don’t live all that far from the station.’

‘You think I’d let you walk home after dark?’

‘It doesn’t get dark till after eight,’ she replied, feeling grateful for daylight saving.

‘Which it will be by the time we finish here. Don’t make a fuss, Kathryn. And don’t suggest a taxi. I’m driving you home and that’s that. If you’re worried I might be over the limit then don’t be. I’ll restrict my intake to two glasses and you can drink the rest.’