Page 140 of Savage Suit
Excitement and the effects of the alcohol brightened her eyes. She leaned forward, and I mimicked her, creating intimacy even in the crowded restaurant.
“Goût de Diamantsis the top, over a million dollars, and forever out of my monetary limits.”
“The one you refer to is a collector’s item, lush,” I teased. “If you want to drink it, you can find it at a much more affordable price.”
“Where’s the fun or the decadence in that?” She laughed merrily. “It’s wildly expensive and alimitedLimited Edition. I understand if I ever lucked out and bought it, it should be to keep in a display case and allow its value to increase with time.”
“That isn’t what you’d do, though.”
“Nope. YOLO.”
I lifted a brow at her, and she covered her face.
“Oh God,” she groaned from behind her slim fingers. “Lame. You don’t have to tell me.”
“Okay, I won’t. I wasn’t going to say it, anyway.”
She slid her hands down just far enough to show her eyes. “You weren’t?”
“I was going to say that expression is so yesterday.”
“Pooh on you,” she chirped, waving her hand in dismissal.
“I’m wounded.”
“I’m sure,” she retorted, and we laughed at our silliness.
“Goût de Diamantsmight be an impossibility.”
“As you said it’s a collector’s item. The true expense is from the bottle, not the champagne. It has a nineteen-carat diamond and a white gold logo.”
The depth of her research impressed me. “What other champagnes would you like to try?”
“Ace of Spades. Some vintages top out at a very affordable two hundred grand,” she joked. “Rotgut compared to Goût de Diamants.”
“You tasted Ace of Spades,” I reminded her, caught up in the moment. “I doubt Nicholas paid as much per bottle. Maybe six or seven hundred. I’d also like to add your pronunciation ofGoût de Diamantsis much improved since the masquerade ball.”
She blinked at me and straightened. To me, she moved in slow motion. Or, maybe, it was the speed of my brain as it caught up to my words.
A squeak escaped her before absolute horror wiped her happiness away.
I leaned across the table to grab her hand, but she recoiled from me. “Ryan—”
“Quinn lied to me,” she whispered, and her voice shook. “You…We…Did we…”
Before she got her words out, Alf returned, wheeling a cart with two champagne glasses, and a bucket of ice holding the bottle of Krug. “Here you are, sir.”
When he presented the bottle to me, it was hard to drag my gaze from Ryan’s ashen face to look at the label. Likewise, the cork. Pouring enough for me to taste took forever. Once he handed me the glass, I sipped from it, not caring enough to assess the flavor. I simply nodded.
“Are you two ready to order?” he asked once he filled our glasses and returned the bottle to the bucket.
“Give us another minute, Alf.”
“As you wish, sir,” he said, wheeling the cart away.
Ryan looked at me and drew in a deep breath. “Did we have sex that night?”
This wasn’t the way she was supposed to find out, and I damned myself for not taking more care.
