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why you picked that. It’s an engineer thing, isn’t it?’
    She looked at him, surprised. He actually understood? The men she’d dated in the past wouldn’t have picked that up. They’d have assumed that she was flirting with them.
    Then again, this wasn’t a date.
    At her nod, he asked, ‘So how does it work?’
    ‘You cut the top off the egg, add a little of the butter from the spoon, and a teensy bit of white vinegar from this pipette, then dip the asparagus into the yolk and mix it. Like this.’ She demonstrated.
    When she licked the sauce from the tip of her asparagus, she glanced across at him—and realised that his pupils had dilated and his mouth was parted slightly.
    She hadn’t been flirting with him—not intentionally, anyway. But seeing his reaction went straight to her head. This was the man who’d just put an image in her head about him giving her a necklace of kisses. An image she couldn’t shift. So maybe he deserved an image in his own head. Time for a little retaliation. She maintained eye contact, dipped the asparagus in the sauce again and took her time licking the sauce from it.
    By the time she’d finished eating the first spear, Felix was practically hyperventilating.
    ‘You did that on purpose, didn’t you?’ he asked.
    She pretended to consider the question, then gave him an impish smile. ‘Yes. Though, to be fair, you did start it.’
    ‘How?’
    ‘Remember what you said about this?’ She indicated her borrowed necklace.
    ‘I said that out loud?’ He looked horrified. ‘I apologise.’
    So he hadn’t intended to say it. The fact that she’d disturbed his cool enough to make him behave so out of character sent a warm feeling all the way through her.
    ‘No problem.’ Honesty compelled her to add, ‘And I shouldn’t have flirted with you. It isn’t fair to your partner.’
    ‘I don’t have a partner.’ He paused. ‘And I wasn’t intending to flirt with you, either. It isn’t fair to your partner.’
    She took a deep breath. ‘I don’t have one, either.’ And, just in case he thought that was an offer, she said, ‘There’s no time—not with work.’
    ‘People don’t tend to be very understanding if you put your job before them,’ he said, sounding rueful.
    Was that why he was single—because he was a workaholic and his ex had given him an ultimatum: the job or her?
    She’d had that same ultimatum given to her. With an added twist that still made her angry when she thought about it. ‘Tell me about it,’ she said, rolling her eyes. She’d just bet that his reaction had been the same as hers: he’d chosen his job. ‘And I apologise for teasing you. I suppose it was a case of revenge is hors d’oeuvres.’
    His mouth gave that little quirk she found so attractive. ‘And I thought it was meant to be sweet.’
    ‘Ah, no. Pudding’s something else. I might consider sharing, if I get a taste of your lemon mousse.’
    He laughed, those beautiful eyes crinkling at the corners.
    When he was relaxed, like this, he seemed more approachable.
    Touchable.
    She really had to stop thinking like that, because he was off limits.
    ‘I like you, Daisy Bell,’ he said. ‘I like your style. But I don’t think I’m going to be able to look at you until you’ve finished your asparagus.’
    ‘Try some,’ she invited. ‘This is fabulous.’
    He shook his head. ‘I’m fine, thanks. But take my mind off what you just did to me. Tell me how the museum started.’

Chapter Four
    I T WAS a safe subject. No way could she mess this up by flirting with him. Relieved, Daisy began to explain. ‘My great-great-grandfather was an engineer in the textile industry, but he could see how steam engines could work with fairground rides. When my great-grandfather—the one who made the gallopers—took over, Bell’s were already a household name on the showman circuit.’
    ‘So the museum’s based on your family heritage?’
    She nodded. ‘The demand for rides changed over the