Her reactions were so different from other women’s. His previous dates pretended not to notice where he took them or how they got there, but he could always see the calculations going on behind their masks of indifference. Chloe was frank in her appraisal of what things cost, and faintly disapproving of extravagance.

“This place has the best lobster I’ve ever eaten,” he said. “That’s why I brought you here.”

The rigidity went out of her posture. She reached across the table toward him, her palm turned up. “And I appreciate that.”

He wrapped his fingers around her small hand, and suddenly the table was far too wide. He wished the Weather Vane Inn had banquette seating so he could pull her up against his side, feel the softness of her, breathe in her scent, and twine his fingers into the shining strands of her hair.

His thoughts must have shown on his face, because a blush climbed her cheeks and she tugged her hand free to fumble open her menu, breaking contact with his gaze to scan the inn’s offerings. He saw her eyebrows go up, and somehow knew she was noticing there were no prices on her menu. For once, she made no comment.

“Would you prefer mine?” he asked, offering it across the table.

“Sometimes ignorance is bliss.” She went back to studying the menu before she closed it. “In keeping with the theme of simplicity, I’m just going to have a salad and a lobster.”

“You have a choice of how many pounds. And butter or some other sauce.”

“No butter. I want to taste the lobster itself. How many pounds are you having?”

“I’d recommend two two-pounders. I think the meat is better in the smaller lobsters.” He was surprised she had asked for his recommendation. She generally had her own ideas about things. “May I choose our beverage?”

She nodded.

The moment he closed his menu, their waiter appeared at the table to take the order before he sent the sommelier over with the wine list. Nathan already knew what he was ordering, partly because he liked it with lobster, and partly because he knew it would horrify Chloe’s thrifty soul. He scanned down the wine list and said, “Bin thirty-three.”

“What’s in bin thirty-three?” she asked after the sommelier left.

“Dom Pérignon. It’s excellent with lobster.” He didn’t add that it was a highly valued vintage. She might refuse to drink it.

All she did was raise her eyebrows at him.

The server brought two empty champagne flutes and placed them on the table. Chloe reached out to twirl hers between her fingertips. “We have to discuss your father’s wedding,” she said, lifting her eyes from the spinning glass. “Now that we’re, you know, dating, you can’t pay me to go.”

She was so matter-of-fact about her desire to earn money that he was curious to find out why she was turning down a substantial paycheck. “We made that deal before we started our relationship, so it still stands.”

She dropped her gaze to her fidgeting fingers. “It would make me feel like someone from an escort service.”

He could see the logic in that. “You’ll still allow me to finance your clothing for the occasion, though. Otherwise I will rescind the invitation.” He wasn’t going to have his father’s shotgun wedding become a burden for Chloe.

Her glass spun out of her fingers, rolling toward the edge of the table. He caught it as it fell and returned it to its place.

She lifted her chin. “I’ll accept only because I don’t want to embarrass you.”

He looked at her with her cloud of shining gold-shot hair swirling around her shoulders, her huge brown eyes glowing in the candlelight, and the soft curves of her lips compressed with stubborn pride. “I would be proud to have you on my arm, no matter what you wore. However, I look forward to taking you shopping.”

“What? You’re going with me?” she squeaked.

He hadn’t intended to until this moment. “I have strong opinions on female attire.”

She snorted inelegantly. “Female lingerie I can believe, but I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t know a Prada from a Pucci.”

“Granted, my expertise runs more to SQL and Python. But I know what I like, and I’d like to watch you model it.”

The line of her lips softened. “You have a company to run.”

“I get a lunch hour like everyone else.”

“Ha! That shows what you know about shopping. It will take more than an hour to find the right outfit for such a special occasion.”

Her look of triumph entertained him. “I can give myself more than an hour for lunch, but I’m not sure I can do the same for you, since you report to Flexitemps.”

“I think Judith would understand.”

“So I can pay you for shopping time?”

She went back to fiddling with her glass. “I’m not sure. I have to think about it.”

The sommelier appeared with the champagne, silently twisting the cork from the bottle before he poured a splash in Nathan’s flute. Nathan tasted it and nodded his approval.

After their glasses were filled and the sommelier departed, Nathan lifted his flute. “To Pucci and Python, a good pairing.”

Chloe looked skeptical until she took a sip of the Dom Pérignon. Her eyelids fluttered closed and he could see her rolling the sparkling wine around in her mouth. He wanted to kiss her so he could taste it on her tongue.

She opened her eyes. “Wow!” She took another drink, her eyes narrowing as she concentrated on the flavor.