Page 26 of Heart Match

‘Is it your first time in London?’ I ask after a while.

‘Not really. I’ve been here a few times,’ Luc says running his hand through his hair.

‘Do you like it?’

‘I do, yeah. It’s a big city, a bit different than Monaco,’ he says, getting my full attention.

‘Why are you comparing London to Monaco?’ I ask.

He’s smiling, it’s that amused smile again. I get the feeling I’m a great source of amusement to him.

‘I live in Monaco.’

Wait, what?

I stare at him surprised, probably more than that. He’s making a funny face, as if I already should have known that he lives in Monaco. I mean, who lives in Monaco? Seriously, how many people have you actually met that live in Monaco? He told me he’s from France, but never mentioned where he lived. Okay, I never asked either. I’m beginning to get worried about all this. I uncross my legs and cross them in the other direction, shifting a bit uncomfortably on the seat, and pulling down my dress, which has slid up my thighs.

I wonder what the girls would say if I told them Luc lives in Monaco—all the outrageous assumptions they would make.

Isn’t he weird? He undresses me, puts me to bed without even knowing me and leaves my shoes neatly placed, is nice, cooks, has an athlete’s body, runs with me, likes to eat the un-popped kernels, takes me on a date in a BMW with a driver, and now he tells me he lives in Monaco like it’s the most common place to live. If he’s royalty I don’t want to know. I really don’t want to know, because knowing it might ruin this once and for all.

I decide not to ask him if he belongs to the Monaco Royal Family, first because this sounds outrageous, and second, why would a prince from Monaco choose to stay at a penthouse in Richmond? I thought they had a room in one of the British Royal Family palaces, don’t they? Whatever. He’s not royalty, and I’m not in some kind of common girl meets prince romcom movie.

After crossing half of London all the way to Mayfair, we finally arrive at the restaurant. Once we step out of the black BMW, after Luc opens the door for me, he threads his fingers through mine. The gesture takes me by surprise. I know this is a big deal not only for me, but for him too by the way he looks at me searching for my approval. My tiny fingers welcome his long rough ones and I follow his lead. We walk towards the restaurant’s entrance holding hands.

The restaurant’s inside a white building with high windows. After being greeted by a man at the door and once we’re inside, I realise where we are. It’s Sketch. I have never been here and it’s nothing less than one of the most exclusives restaurants in London, Michelin starred and all.

The place is loud, bright and colourful. Art and music and haute cuisine blend in one place. As I take a look around, Luc lets go of my hand to speak to the hostess. I barely hear them talking—I’m enchanted by the ballerina dancing around the room for the guests. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. There is a mix of expensive perfume and exotic food in the air. Some people are clinking champagne flutes, while some girls are taking selfies in front of a flowered wall. This place is popular amongst influencers and stars, I know that because just the other day Lexi wouldn’t shut up about it when she saw some photos of Taylor Swift here.

I’m brought back to where I am when I feel his hand take mine again, as if he’s claiming me. I don’t know why, but it feels goddamn good. And right.

A guy wearing a suit leads us to our place. I secretly wish our table is in this room where everything is pink, floor, chairs to ceiling. But our table is nothing compared to any restaurant table I’ve ever had. It’s a table for two, in a private room. How about that for a dinner night out?

The room is in gold, red and beige colours. A big fireplace stands behind the table, on the left side is a big window framed with red velvet curtains and crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling. Thick velvet curtains separate us from the rest of the restaurant, just like the ones framing the window.

‘Welcome to the Lecture Room and Library,’ says our host. He introduces us to our private waiter and explains how the menu works once we take our places at the table for two. We both agree that the wine pairing menu is out of the question, I’m the first one to say no to alcohol tonight, and I suppose this makes him decide not to have it either, which I think is thoughtful.

‘So. It seems to me I know nothing about you,’ I say.

I generally am not one to ask many questions to the guys I hook up with. The less information, the better. Why search for something I’m not willing to give a chance to?

Luc’s playing with his wristbands, something I notice him doing a lot, and looking at me with thoughtful eyes.

‘What do you want to know about me, Olivia?’

I think by now it’s fair to say he’s the only person to give me goosebumps when calling me Olivia. Otherwise, in general, hearing my name means something serious.

He has his face of amusement on, he seems relaxed and curious to know what’s coming his way. I feel pressured about the questions I’m thinking. There are many things I want to ask, I don’t know where to begin. I haven’t been on a real date in years.

‘Should I be worried that you live in Monaco?’

He lets out a sexy delicious laugh, his voice almost hoarse.

‘If you mean worried by having a date with someone from the Monaco royalty, you can stop worrying about it now. Not only royalty live in Monaco, you know that?’

I almost feel stupid about my question, but at least now I know he’s only rich and not royalty. I’m not sure how I’d feel if he belonged to the Monaco Royal Family. I never imagined myself as a princess, or living in a castle, or having paparazzi stalkers following my steps like Lady Di.

‘Now I’m relieved,’ I say, teasing Luc. And he cracks another one of his smiles. He’s looking so delicious sitting across from me with his powerful daredevil eyes fixed on mine. It makes me unconsciously cross my legs, as if by doing so I’d calm the desire building between my thighs.

---