“Another drink?” Mason asked.
The server was clearing away the remains of their third course. Dessert was next on the menu. They’d ordered pot de creme which he hoped Ines would like.
She gulped down the last of her martini. “Oh God no,” she said, setting down the glass. “I think I’m good.” She frowned. “Or bad. Drinking too much at lunch is bad, isn’t it?”
“You’ve only had four.” The corner of his mouth twitched as he tried not to laugh. It was clear that she was a little tipsy. She looked like she was blushing, except the flush had been on her face for the past ten minutes.
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Kilborne?”
He chuckled, unable to help himself. “Why would I do that, Ms. Andrada?”
“I dunno.” She was absently sliding her forefinger and thumb up and dow
