I watch carefully, almost apprehensively, for his reaction. I’m more than shocked when he takes a sip of water, then launches into his answer. ‘They live in Marbella. My sister’s there too. I’ve not spoken to them for years. They didn’t approve when Carmichael left me The Manor and all of his estate.’

Oh? ‘He left it all to you?’ I can see why that might cause a family feud, especially if there’s a sister in the picture.

‘He did. We were close, and he didn’t talk to my parents. They didn’t approve.’

‘They didn’t approve of your relationship?’

‘No, they didn’t.’ He starts chewing his lip.

‘What was not to approve of?’ I’m completely intrigued now.

He sighs. ‘As soon as I left college, I spent all of my time with Carmichael. Mum, Dad and Amalie moved to Spain, and I refused to go. I was eighteen and having the time of my life. I stayed with Carmichael when they left. They weren’t happy about it.’ He shrugs. ‘Three years later, Carmichael died and I was left to run The Manor.’ He tells the story with no emotion. He takes another swig of water. ‘The relationship was strained after that. They demanded I sell The Manor but I couldn’t. It was Carmichael’s baby.’

Christ. I’ve found out more about this man in five minutes than I have since I’ve known him. Why is he so talkative tonight? I decide to take advantage – I don’t know when I’ll get another chance.

‘What do you do for fun?’

His green eyes flash black and he grins wickedly. ‘Fuck you.’

My eyes widen at his crass answer, and I cave on the inside. He sees me as his current fun? Now I just feel shitty. I shift in my seat and break the eye connection, taking a sip of wine. I hate this regular plummeting feeling that I’m getting of late. I’m on Central Jesse Cloud Nine one moment, then one comment brings me crashing down to reality. I can’t cope with all these mixed signals.

‘You like power in the bedroom.’ I state without a trace of a blush. I’m proud of myself. His skill and influence on my entire being has me nervous.

‘I do.’ His face is completely impassive when I return my eyes to his.

‘Are you a dominant?’ I blurt, and then mentally stab myself with the fancy, silver fork at my place setting. Where did that come from?

He coughs, nearly spitting his water all over me. Why did I ask that for?

Placing his glass down, he picks up his cloth napkin to wipe his mouth as he shakes his head on a half-smile. ‘Ava, I don’t need that sort of arrangement to get a woman to do what I want her to do in the bedroom. I haven’t got the time or inclination for crap like that.’

I sag slightly. ‘You seem to be committing a lot of time to me.’

‘I suppose I am.’ He gazes past me thoughtfully.

‘You’re very controlling.’ I state coolly, observing the swirling of my wine. I’ll get that one out there too.

‘Look at me.’ he demands softy, and like the slave to him that I am, I look. His green eyes have softened as he sits back, relaxed in his chair. ‘Only with you,’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know.’ He has a quick chew of his lip. ‘You make me crazy.’

What? Well, that clears things up no end. Does he think I need some sort of father figure? I’m beyond confused. I sigh wearily into my wine glass. I make him crazy? Right back attcha, Ward!

‘Here’s your pasta.’ he says. I look up and see Luigi singing as he approaches. I’ve completely lost my appetite.

‘Lovely people,’ he places two considerable bowls in front of us. ‘Buon appetito!’

‘Thank you, Luigi.’ Jesse smiles politely. He flicks me a questioning look, but I ignore it and smile my thanks at Luigi. He’s just like Mario.

I stir the pasta with my fork, it smells heavenly, but my stomach is now a knot of confusion. I play with it for a few moments, then try a bit.

‘Good?’ Jesse asks.

I nod lamely, even though it is very good. We eat in silence for a while, occasionally tossing stares at each other. The food is wonderful, and I’m feeling guilty for not enjoying it as much as it deserves.

‘When did you buy the penthouse?’ I ask.

He pauses with his fork half way to his mouth. ‘March.’ he answers, taking his last mouthful of food and pushing his bowl away before picking up his water.

‘You never told me why you requested me personally to work on the extension of The Manor.’ I give up on my pasta, pushing it away.

Jesse looks at the half eaten dish and returns his eyes to mine. ‘I brought the penthouse and loved what you did with it. I can assure you, I didn’t expect you to come rocking up, with your perfect figure, olive skin and big brown eyes.’ He shakes his head, as if shaking off the memory. I feel somewhat better knowing he was as shocked to see me as I was to see him.

I scoff. ‘You weren’t exactly the Lord of the Manor I was expecting.’ I do my own little shudder when I recall the affect he had on me; the affect he still has on me. ‘How did you know where I was on that Monday lunchtime when I bumped into you at the bar?’

He shrugs. ‘Lucky guess,’

‘Of course,’ I scoff. Followed me, more like.

I look up and see a smile tickling the edge of his luscious lips. ‘I couldn’t think of anything else after you left The Manor.’

‘So you pursued me relentlessly.’ I retort quietly.

‘I had to have you.’

‘And now you have. Do you always take what you want?’

He watches me across the table, his face completely straight as he leans forward. ‘I can’t answer that, Ava, because I’ve never wanted anything enough to pursue it so relentlessly. Not like I wanted you.

I notice he uses past tense. ‘Do you still?’

He sits back in his chair and studies me, stroking his glass of water. ‘More than anything,’

A little gush of air escapes my mouth. I’m not sure if it’s relief or desire. I know nothing anymore. ‘I’m yours.’ I say resolutely. That’s it. I’ve just thrown my heart on the table for this man.

His tongue slowly sweeps across his bottom lip. ‘Ava, you’ve been mine since you turned up at The Manor.’

‘Have I?’

‘Yes. Will you spend the night with me?’

‘Are you asking or demanding?’

‘I’m asking, but if you give me the wrong answer, then I’m sure I can think of something to change your mind.’ He smiles slightly.

‘I’ll spend the night with you.’

He nods in approval. ‘Tomorrow night?’

‘Yes.’

‘Take the day off.’ he demands.

‘No.’

His eyes narrow. ‘What about Friday evening?’

‘I’ve arranged to go out with Kate on Friday night.’ I inform him, resisting the temptation to reach up and twiddle my hair. He can’t assume I’m there at his demand. I hope she’s free.

His narrowed eyes instantly darken. ‘Cancel.’

Now, this is something I do need to clear up, pronto – his neurotic unreasonableness. ‘I’m going out to have a few drinks. You can’t stop me from seeing my friends, Jesse.’