That look alone quickened Connor's pulse far more than should have been possible. He'd hoped for something, anything. But he'd assumed that a lot of what Hartley had done was more the product of drunken imagination making things more intense. Now he wondered if it had softened the edges of what the younger man was actually capable of. The possibility alone should not have made him so weak in the knees.

"Well, when you put it like that..." he started, his voice far too unsteady. "Yeah. That's certainly a way of putting it." Some of that unease passed and he managed to smile again. It certainly summed up what he wanted after lunch. One thing was certain, this was going to be the longest, strangest, most frustrating meal he'd ever had.