Page 39 of Betrayed

“I like that you forget, and how your beautiful green eyes get hazy when you’re in my arms.” She felt his lips brush her brow. “But we’ll have more of that later. I have a meeting down the block in a few minutes.”

“Later?”

“Yes. My reason for being here was to invite you to dinner. I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock here at the shop.”

She smiled at his invitation-wrapped command.

He noticed, and his sexy lips pursed as he frowned. “I did it again,non?”

“Yeah, but I’d still like to have dinner with you.”

He grinned. “One more kiss and then I really must go.”

She obliged without question, but his lips on hers and the delving of his tongue, although hot, were much too brief. When he raised his head, he whispered, “Wear something elegant, and like last night, I want you bare underneath. I’ll see you at eight.” The next moment, he was gone.

As she stood staring at the closed door,bare underneathrepeated in her head. It seemed she had set a precedent. But she didn’t care. A giddy sense of excitement swept through her, like when the most popular boy in her senior class asked her to prom. And when Derek had proposed.

That thought dampened her enthusiasm, but Arturo’s words from the evening before came back to her. She was still young and healthy and had a lifetime ahead of her. Wouldn’t Derek want her to find happiness, somehow, if he couldn’t be here to see to it himself? Clinging to that rationalization, she rushed to the front, looking for something elegant from the racks of her shop.

* * *

ARTURO ARRIVED PROMPTLY, dressed entirely in black except for a textured silvery-gray silk tie. He looked fantastic and smelled so delicious she had to stop herself from rubbing against him, burying her nose into his throat, and inhaling his masculine, spicy scent as she purred contentedly.

As if he knew the directions of her thoughts, his lips twitched.

“Minou,”he murmured huskily, calling her the kitten, or more like the cat in heat, which she resembled at the moment. But he was acting the gentleman and didn’t point out the obvious. “You look beautiful, as always.”

After only a soft brush of his lips, he whisked her out the door and walked hand in hand with her to her favorite little bistro on the other side of the square.

Quiet and romantic, she deferred to him to order the wine and their entrees, as there wasn’t a thing on the menu she hadn’t tried and didn’t love. He surprised her by selecting her most favorite dish and the same sides she lined up when she used to come here with her kids once a month before they left for school—rack of lamb, for two in their case, with gratin potatoes, red wine mushrooms, and garlic green beans with pancetta.

In no rush, they sipped the cabernet sauvignon he had selected, a French wine, naturally. As they watched the evening foot traffic pass by the window from their table, they chatted companionably without getting too personal or heavy.

In the low light, his good looks captivated her, and she noticed the many approving female glances. She wanted to tell them all to back off, especially when two younger, thinner blondes made a deliberate detour by their table on the way to the ladies’ room. The need diminished throughout the meal as Arturo focused his attention solely on her. Having moved his chair beside hers immediately upon being seated at the intimate table for two, he was close enough to touch and did so often. Nothing untoward, merely holding her hand or a fingertip stroke of her cheek, and once, bringing her fingers to his mouth for a lingering kiss with just a hint of tongue.

After cleaning their plates and polishing off the full bottle of red, Mari declined dessert. Although she wished she hadn’t when the waitress delivered his lemon tart with toasted meringue and fresh strawberries. He surprised her by offering her the first taste, which she couldn’t resist. Feeding her from his own spoon, a groan of pure pleasure escaped her when the flavors burst on her tongue.

As he scooped up a bite for himself, his eyes, blazing with intensity, connected with hers. Slowly, he pulled the spoon from between his lips, where hers had just been. “Mm, lemon, strawberry, and sweet, sweet Mari, a combination I could definitely get used to.”

She blushed, aware of the thud of her heartbeat, in her ears, her chest, and definitely in the aching pulse between her thighs. Her tongue came out to wet lips suddenly gone dry, tasting sweet meringue. His sly grin and the spoon, filled with another flavorful bite, returning to her parted lips. A second, throaty moan filled the air, startling her back to reality.

She scrambled for a distraction, asking something she’d wondered about for a while. “You use a lot of endearments—minou, chérie, andma colombe.The last one you’ve called me several times. What does it mean?”

“Pet names,à la française, are the French way. Does it bother you?”

More heat stole into her cheeks.

“I didn’t think so.” Taking another bite of lemon and berries, the smile in his gold-flecked green eyes gleamed with a sensual flare in the candlelight. “Ma colombemeans my dove.”

A warmth swept through her, finding that lovely and very sweet. But she had a follow up. “Why a dove?”

“They symbolize beauty, delicacy, and softness, which reminds me of you, but most of all, it’s the cooing sounds you make in your throat when you are aroused.”

Her lips parted on a stuttering breath. “I don’t.”

His lips tipped up as he chewed and swallowed. “Oui,ma colombe, you do. I find it charming and very sexy.”

With her mouth open as she readied another protest, he slid in the dessert-laden spoon, which prompted more such sounds in her throat. He chuckled and she couldn’t help but do the same while reaching for her linen napkin.

---