Page 11 of Close Encounters of the Hot Kind

Charles's thumb traces another circle on my palm. "You approve?"

"It's..." Words fail me. Everything sparkles - the crystal glasses, the polished silverware, the perfectly pressed tablecloths.

The maître d' leads us to a secluded corner table. Charles releases my hand to pull out my chair. His fingers brush my bare shoulder as he helps me sit, and electricity shoots down my spine. Those hands of his - they're massive, strong enough tospan my entire shoulder. Heat floods my face as I imagine them sliding lower, exploring every inch of-

"Wine list, sir?"

I jerk back to reality, my cheeks burning. Charles settles into his seat across from me, and those amazing eyes bore into me. Does he know what I was just thinking about? Something in his smile makes me think he might.

"Do you have a wine preference?" Charles's eyes sparkle with interest as he studies the leather-bound list.

"I like sweet wines. Dry ones taste like somebody squeezed all the joy out of the grapes."

His lips twitch. "An astute observation. Perhaps..." He turns to the sommelier. "The Sauternes, I think. The 2010."

The sommelier's eyebrows rise appreciatively. "An excellent choice, sir."

My fingers fidget with the napkin in my lap. The weight of the crystal glasses, the gleam of sterling silver, the whispered conversations around us - it all feels like too much. Like I'm playing dress-up in someone else's life.

"Something troubles you." Charles leans forward, concern etching his perfect features.

"It's just..." I gesture at our surroundings. "The limo, this place, even the, um, flour bouquet. It's a lot for a first date. Are you sure I'm worth all this?"

His expression shifts, grows intense. "Worth it? Aileen..." He reaches across the table, his fingertips brushing mine. That strange electric tingle shoots up my arm again. "If anything, this barely scratches the surface of what you deserve. You are..." He pauses, searching for words. "Extraordinary. I only wish I could do more to show you how much I-" He catches himself, withdraws his hand. "How much I appreciate your company tonight."

The wine arrives, golden as sunset in the crystal glass. But I barely notice it, too caught up in the way Charles looks at me - like I'm the most fascinating creature he's ever seen.

"Oh come on." I wave my hand, dismissing his praise. "I work in my parent's restaurant, and that's all I've ever done. I can't be that fascinating."

Charles's perfect features twist into something that looks almost like pain. "It breaks my heart to disagree with you, Aileen, but you are incorrect. You are the most fascinating creature in all the galaxy."

My stomach does a little flip at his words. The wine must be getting to my head because for a moment I actually believe him. But then his choice of words registers.

The galaxy? Who talks like that?

"You talk about outer space a lot." I lean back, studying his too-perfect face. "You're not in one of those weirdo billionaire alien cults, are you?"

A strange expression flickers across his features - alarm? But it vanishes so fast I might have imagined it. His fingers tighten around his wine glass.

Charles's smile lights up his face, but something about it seems rehearsed, like he's practiced it in front of a mirror.

"I can assure you I am definitely not in a cult, weird or otherwise."

The words ring true, but that's not what bothers me. It's the careful way he speaks, like someone translating each word in their head before saying it out loud. My dad gets the same look when he's telling me the truth but not the whole truth - like when he swears he didn't eat the last cannoli but conveniently leaves out that he gave it to mom.

Time to dig deeper.

"So, Chuck," I say, deliberately using the nickname to see how he'll react. His eye twitches - score one for me. "How were things for you growing up?"

The wine glass freezes halfway to his lips. Just for a second, but I catch it. Got him.

His expression clouds over.

"I was born in the middle of a great war ravaging my..." A pause, barely noticeable. "Country. I vowed I would do anything I could to stop the devastation."

That darkness vanishes as quick as it appeared, replaced by that million-dollar smile. "I'm not much for talking about myself. I'm far more interested in you, Aileen. Tell me, what are your dreams and aspirations?"

Nice deflection there, buddy. But his eyes shine with genuine interest, and when was the last time a guy asked about my dreams? Usually they just want to know if I can get them free pizza.

---