Page 63 of Dark Princess: Shadows

The late afternoon sun caught her blue hair, creating an ethereal effect that made him smile.

When he pulled up to the sleek glass tower, Marina frowned. "This is it? It looks like an office building."

"The restaurant is on the top floor of the hotel, which occupies the top ten floors of the building." Peter drove down toward the clan's reserved parking spaces. "We need to take an elevator to the lobby, which is on the sixtieth floor, and take another one from there to the restaurant." He parked the car and deliberately left it unlocked.

"How do you even know about this place?" Marina tried to mask her jealousy by looking around the marble-lined elevator lobby.

He chuckled. "I haven't taken any ladies up here if that's what you are worried about. The clan owns the place, and we use the restaurant for business meetings and the like. I've never cared enough for anyone before you to bring her here."

It was true. It had never occurred to him to bring Kagra to the hotel, and it wasn't because of her alien looks or the fact that she couldn't eat anything at the restaurant. A pair of sunglasses and loose clothing would have done most of the heavy lifting of camouflaging her looks, and he might have needed to add a little shroud here and there to smooth out the edges. He just hadn't had the urge to pamper Kagra.

"I wasn't worried." Marina smiled sheepishly.

As the elevator began its rapid ascent, she clutched his arm, her eyes squeezed shut. He wrapped an arm around her waist, steadying her. She wasn't used to fast elevators, and when it came to a gentle stop, she opened her eyes, looking relieved.

She was still holding on to his arm as they stepped out into the hotel lobby.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. That was really fast."

They walked over to the elevator that was marked with the restaurant logo.

"The Seventy-Second?" Marina asked.

"That's the restaurant's name and also the floor it is on."

She looked at it with suspicion in her eyes. "Is it going to be as fast as the other one?"

"Probably, but it doesn't have as far to go, so it's not going to be as bad."

When the restaurant elevator doors opened, Peter led Marina to the hostess station. "Peter and Marina MacBain," he said.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. MacBain." The hostess gathered two menus. "Please, follow me."

Marina looked up at him with a raised brow. "MacBain?" she whispered.

"I'll explain in a moment," he whispered back.

Marina's eyes widened as she took in the panoramic view of the city through the restaurant's floor-to-ceiling windows. The sun was setting, painting the sky in brilliant hues that reflected off the glass and steel towers dotting the horizon.

"The whole city looks magical from up here," Marina said.

"Your table, Mr. and Mrs. MacBain," the hostess said, gesturing to a private booth nestled against the windows.

"Thank you." He helped Marina into her seat before sliding in beside her. The leather upholstery was butter-soft, and the table settings gleamed in the warm lighting.

Marina picked up the menu. "So, what's the deal with the last name you gave us? Not that I mind. It sounds nice."

"We always use MacBain to make reservations here. It's a code for the hosts to reserve the best table for us."

"Oh." She sounded a little disappointed.

"We also use the name when dealing with people outside the clan, so if you like it, I can get you documents under this name."

"When we get married, can we choose whatever name we want?"

He nodded. "Perhaps not just any name, but we can pick from a list." He reached for her hand. "Tell me about your dress. It's not bad luck to talk about it, right?"

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