Page 26 of The Billionaires

Holy grapes. I’m not a connoisseur, but this is by far the best wine I’ve ever tasted. It’s feather light, silky smooth, and has an earthy aftertaste I can’t quite place.

“You like wine?” Lucius asks, watching me intently.

I didn’t think I did, but maybe I do now. “You’re still changing the subject.”

His expressive eyebrows ask a question.

“My privacy,” I enunciate. “You invaded it.”

“You realize you applied for a job with a company I own?” he asks.

I squint at him. “So?”

“What my team did isn’t all that different from the background check you would’ve gotten from any employer.”

I catch my fingers tapdancing on the tabletop and stop them. “That’s done before offering someone a job.”

He sets down his glass. “Why do you think you’re here?”

I’m so stunned by the question that I gulp my wine, tasting none of its earlier subtleties.

Something like, “Why am I here?” should’ve been the first question I asked, but somehow, I find it hard to do the logical thing when Lucius is around.

As I open my mouth to finally ask that important question, the waitress/hostess, Maddy, sashays over to our table with a tray in her hands.

“Lobster tartare,” she says as she sets two plates in front of each of us. Batting her fake eyelashes at Lucius, she demurely adds, “Was there a reason you asked for me to serve you, Mr. Warren?”

Jeez, lady, have some dignity.

“I merely wanted a professional,” Lucius says coolly. “Someone who doesn’t ogle the customer’s dates.”

Does he not realize the irony of saying that to a woman actively ogling him as they speak? She doesn’t know I’m not really his date, despite what he’s just said.

Maddy does seem to be quick on the uptake because she halts her own ogling instantly and mumbles something that sounds like, “Understood, sir.”

As soon as she leaves, Lucius nods at the lobster. “I want your opinion.”

Feeling like I’m in The Twilight Zone, I stab some lobster on my plate and dip it into the buttery sauce.

The flavor explosion in my mouth is so surprisingly pleasurable I have to bite my lip to suppress a moan.

Lucius watches me with his signature intensity. “Well?”

“It’s good,” I say in an understatement of the century.

With a self-satisfied nod, he eats some of his own dish, making the action look so annoyingly sensual that for a second, I wish I were a lobster. When he swallows, he nods again, approvingly.

“Now,” I say as my hand spears more lobster onto my fork of its own accord. “Why are we here?”

CHAPTER 11

LUCIUS

She forks the piece of lobster into her mouth, and I curse biology once again for making such a benign action distracting.

“Have you read the gossip about us?” I ask, wrenching my mind away from her delectable lips with effort.

Still chewing, she nods.

---