Page 44 of Savage Game
There was so much silken menace in Byron’s voice, Charlotte would have hidden under the table if it was directed at her. The whispering around them grew louder, and her breathing grew ragged. They were gathering an audience. Her heartbeat quickened and she felt sick to her stomach. Gasping, she clutched the edge of the table, trying to anchor herself.
Pushing Connolly aside, Byron was at her side in two swift steps. “Breathe through pursed lips and try to slow down.”
“I can’t,” she gasped. “Not enough air.”
“You have plenty of air, kitten. Slow down and breathe with me.” He rubbed her back and ignored Connolly, who was smirking and making snide remarks.
“Sir, I must ask you to leave.” An unfamiliar male voice said in an authoritative tone.
Oh no! Horror and mortification rose as ablack-haired man in a designer suit with a displeased expression on his face halted at their table.
Is he kicking us out? Is he mad at us?
“Kittycat, concentrate on your breathing.”
Connolly sputtered something she couldn’t make out.
“You’re disrupting the evening, and I need you to leave my restaurant.”
His restaurant? Her eyes widened.
“You’re kicking me out, what about them?” Spittle flew from Connolly’s mouth and his eyes flashed.
“Honestly?” The manager gave Byron an exasperated eye-roll and resumed glaring at Connolly. “Youthink I’m going to kick the co-owner out?”
What?
Stunned into silence, her mouth dropped open as the manager and a muscled waiter dragged Michael Connolly away.
She swallowed and blinked. “You own this place?”
“I have a minor share.”
“He has a bit more than a minor share.”
Her head swiveled to the manager as he returned to their table. His almost black eyes sparkled with amusement and without the angry glare he was a good-looking man, she noticed.
“That man next to you is the sole reason Gusto Wine and Dine exists at all.”
Her head swiveled back to Byron. Although he didn’t look away from her face, he answered the man, “Nonsense, Sandro. Your business skills and talent, not to forget your nose, is responsible for the insane success of this establishment.”
“Nose?” Her voice rose.
“Hmhm. Sandro here is the best wine connoisseur in the country.” Byron’s eyes softened. “And he’s one of my closest friends.”
“Oh?” Again, her gaze slid to Sandro. What a strange name. Somehow, she had the impression the title of best friend pleased Sandro more than the praise of his wine skills. Charlotte took an instant liking to the man.
He gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry about the unpleasantness, miss.”
She managed to wave her hand dismissively. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Thank you for escorting him out.”
“My pleasure.” He gave her a tight smile. “Forgive me for forgetting my manners.” He gave her a slight bow. “Alessandro Lamberto, at your service.”
Although her knees still shook, she softened her lips into a semblance of a smile and inclined her head. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Charlotte.”
Gradually, Charlotte relaxed and even engaged in a bit of small talk with Mr. Lamberto, who insisted she call him Sandro until their host needed to excuse himself. She gave Byron a brave smile. “Let’s finish our starters before the soup goes entirely cold.”
After their waiter served them coffee, Byron lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. She had been quieter than usual during the rest of their meal, clearly shaken by the encounter. He could kick himself for giving in to her wish to leave the penthouse. If he could, he would keep her there, where she was safe and shielded from the harsh outside world.
