Page 15 of Arranged with Twins
The choice surprises me. Le Bernardin is one of the most prestigious restaurants in the city. It’s somewhere I’ve been for special occasions but never on what’s supposed to be a romantic evening. The fact that Leo chose something sophisticated rather than obviously romantic suggests he’s putting real thought into this dinner.
The restaurant is everything I remember, being elegant, intimate, and clearly expensive. We’re seated at a table that provides privacy while still being visible to other diners, which is the perfect balance for a romantic dinner that needs to look genuine while serving practical purposes.
The conversation flows more easily than I expected. Leo asks thoughtful questions about my time in London and my interests beyond what appears in society page profiles, and I find myself talking about things I rarely discuss with anyone except Nadia. When I mention how much I admire Nadia’s work and my own interest in fashion, possibly combining it with ethical sourcing from women-owned businesses, he doesn’t dismiss it as a frivolous hobby.
“What’s stopping you from pursuing it?” he asks, appearing genuinely curious.
“Family expectations, financial dependence, and having no real business experience beyond academic theory.” I list the obstacles that have always seemed insurmountable. “Now this engagement, which changes my available options again.”
He frowns. “Marriage doesn’t have to mean the end of your ambitions. The right partnership could actually make them more achievable. You’re not trapped.”
The suggestion that he might support my professional goals rather than expecting me to abandon them gives me a bit more optimism in how I view our arrangement. Most men my parents have introduced me to assumed I’d be content with charity work and social obligations.
Oh, yeah, and having their babies. It’s not something Leo and I have talked about, but I’m also glad he hasn’t brought it up. For some reason, my other suitors were eager to turn me into an incubator on day one.
Our conversation is interrupted when Leo signals the server and asks for champagne. “I believe we have something to celebrate.”
The server returns with a bottle of Dom Pérignon and two glasses, setting the stage for what I realize is about to be a very public proposal. We probably should have done this before the party, but perhaps the ring wasn’t ready before.
Leo reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws a small velvet box, and there’s a flutter of excitement even though this isn’t real.
“Sienna,” he says, his voice carrying across the quiet restaurant, “You’ve made me happier than I ever thought possible.”
The words are clearly for the benefit of other diners, but when he opens the box, my reaction is entirely genuine. The ring is absolutely stunning. It’s a large circular diamond surrounded by smaller orange diamonds that catch the candlelight like flames. It’s daring, unique, and completely different from what I expected.
“It’s gorgeous,” I say almost in a whisper, unable to hide my amazement. “Leo, it’s perfect. I couldn’t have chosen a better one if I’d done it myself.”
“I’m glad you like it. I have to confess, I originally chose something much more conservative, but then I realized you deserved something as unique as you are.” He smiles as he says that, which makes it sound like praise rather than criticism that I’m not the traditional woman he expected.
The admission that he changed his choice specifically makes my chest constrict. He went out of his way to select something he thought I’d actually like rather than simply choosing the most expensive option. He had no reason to do it, but he did.
I shake my head in wonder. “You went back and picked out a different ring?”
He shrugs, looking faintly embarrassed. “I wanted to give you something that would make you smile every time you looked at it.” He takes my hand and slides the ring onto my finger. “You deserve to have beautiful things that actually suit you.”
The ring fits perfectly, and the orange diamonds catch the light beautifully against my skin. I’m still staring at it in amazement when Leo leans closer and for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me properly. I lifting my head to meet him halfway, forgetting all about pretenses for the moment as I surrender to the urge to kiss him.
The camera flash from across the restaurant breaks the spell, reminding me where we are and what this really is. Instead of pulling away completely, I lean forward and kiss his cheek, letting my lips linger against his skin longer than strictly necessary.
Even that brief contact sends a jolt of awareness through me for which I wasn’t prepared. Leo’s cologne, the warmth of his skin, and the way his breath hitches slightly when my mouth brushes against him combines into something that feels dangerously true for this second.
“Thank you,” I whisper against his ear. “I love the ring, and I appreciate you taking time to pick something that suits me.”
When I pull back, the look in his eyes suggests that the performance is affecting him as much as it’s affecting me. We finish dinner in a bubble of intimacy that feels both artificial and genuine, as two people playing roles that might be becoming something more substantial.
The ride back to my building is quiet, with both of us apparently processing what happened over dinner. I keep looking at the ring, amazed by how beautiful it is and how much thought Leo clearly put into choosing it. “I hope tonight was helpful for the photographers,” I say as we pull up to my building.
“I think we gave them exactly what they were looking for.” Leo walks me to the lobby entrance. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Sienna. I enjoyed getting to know you better.”
“So did I. The conversation was much more interesting than I expected.”
He smiles at that. “Perhaps we could do it again soon, without quite so many cameras.”
The suggestion that he’d want to spend time with me when it’s not required for publicity makes my heart hammer all the way up into my throat.
“I’d like that,” I hear myself say, and I mean it. Part of me hasn’t forgotten this is more a merger than a marriage, but he’s the first man who’s elicited any sort of response in me for ages, and if we can at least be friends, that would make the arrangement much easier.
It’s only when I getting ready for bed and wondering what it would have been like if we’d actually kissed that I consider we probably can’t be friends. I’ve never fantasized about kissing my friends before, anyway.
