Page 47 of A Billionaire Dom

Linsey

When we pulledinto Arturo Boada Cuisine, I regretted saying I’d go to dinner. My all-leather outfit had been intended for Euphoria, not public view. Normally, I wouldn’t care if people stared at me, but I didn’t want anyone thinking badly of Davin. His reputation reflected on his family name and business.

“We have a private table in the back,” he said as he opened my door for me.

“I’m not exactly dressed for a place like this.”

He took my hand. “We can go in through the kitchen if you like, but I don’t care what anyone thinks about our clothes.”

“I’d prefer that, thank you,” I said as we made our way to the back entrance.

He said he didn’t care, and maybe he thought he didn’t, but the last thing I wanted was his name smeared all over the tabloids because of me. He deserved better than that.

Going through the kitchen got us a few curious looks, but places like this expected discretion from their staff, so I doubted there’d be much in the way of rumors. The private room had an entrance through the kitchen as well, allowing us to make it to a table without having to go through the dining area at all. It was simple and elegant, clearly usable for a small gathering as well as a dinner for two.

After we ordered, Davin reached for my hand, frowning as he lightly ran his fingers over the scrapes on my wrist. I shivered, the slight discomfort of my wounds overshadowed by the pleasure I felt from his touch.

“I’m sorry.” He pressed his lips to the inside of my wrist. “I should have checked before we left.”

“It’s no big deal.” My voice came out shaky, and heat flooded my face. A kiss on the wrist shouldn’t turn me on this much. “I’ll put some antibiotic ointment on them when I get home.”

“‘Them’?” He put my hand down and reached for my other one. “Dammit, Linsey. Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”

I couldn’t decide if I liked this side of his personality or not. “It’s just a scrape.”

He brushed his lips over my other wrist before asking, “What about your neck?”

I shrugged. “I think the choker protected my skin there. Seriously, Davin, it’s not a big deal.”

He got up and came around the table to stand behind me. I closed my eyes as he undid the clasp on my choker and then ran his fingers along the back of my neck. My breathing stuttered when his mouth followed the path of his fingers.

Someone clearing their throat broke the spell, and a blushing waitress came in with our appetizer.

“Thin-sliced Prosciutto San Daniele,” she said as she set the plate down. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No, thank you,” Davin said smoothly as he returned to his seat. After she left, he turned his attention back to me. “I really wish you would’ve told me you were hurting. I would’ve taken care of you.”

I wanted to ask why. Ask if he’d had the same concern for the other women he’d had in similar positions over the years. I wanted to deflect the attention to his concern.

Instead, I answered honestly, “I’m used to taking care of myself.”

Neither of us said anything for several minutes, taking the opportunity to sample the appetizer. The silence between us wasn’t comfortable, exactly, but it wasn’t awkward either.Chargedwas the word that came to mind.

“I was surprised to hear from you tonight,” I finally said, moving us away from the more serious turn the conversation had taken. “Not the call as much as you wanting to go out tonight instead of waiting for the weekend. Is everything okay?”

“Work was…challenging today.”

This was weird. We were sitting in a nice restaurant, having dinner, talking about his day, and trying to pretend that we hadn’t just had kinky sex at a BDSM club.

“I lost a client,” he continued. “A lot of the people I deal with are self-centered and self-involved, but I handle them. It’s part of the job. But these two…” He shook his head.

The waitress came back with our meals, and he waited until she left again before resuming his story.

“Basically, it came down to the fact that they would only give Holden Enterprises their business if I did something completely unethical.” He paused to cut a bite from his New York strip.

“What is it they wanted you to do?” Realizing that my question might’ve sounded like I was butting in where I didn’t belong, I quickly added, “Feel free to tell me it’s none of my business.”

I ate a mouthful of Farfalle pasta and immediately decided that this restaurant would be where I’d bring Kasey for her birthday. She loved pasta, and this was easily the best I’d ever eaten.

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