I open my mouth, still trying to think of something when I notice his tie. His sapphire blue tie that perfectly matches his striking eyes. Can’t believe I missed it before.
“You wore it.”
A grin pulls at his lips as he reaches across the table, taking my hands in his. “You didn’t think I would?”
“I wasn’t sure it would, um, meet your standards.” The words fall from my lips before I can process how lame they sound.
“The tie is almost as perfect as you are,” he replies, setting butterflies loose in my rock-hard stomach.
I barely know the man and he’s already getting to me.Not good, Mia.Men like him are only interested in women like me for one thing.
“Thank you. It goes nicely with your suit.” The likely ten-thousand-dollar, hand-made, Italian suit.
“It’ll look nice on my bedroom floor, beside your dress. Better than nice.”
My hormones scream, “yaaaaaasssss” but before my mouth has a chance to relay that sentiment, the room door slides open and our waiter appears with something that smells like heaven.
“Sorry to disturb you,” he says. He shoots a glance at Dean, clearly understanding what’s expected of him tonight. After Dean nods, the waiter looks at me. “My name is Reginald, and I’ll be your waiter. Can I bring you anything else to drink?”
“No, thank you, Reginald, the wine is perfect.”
“Very good.” He places small glass dishes in front of us. “Our fatty toro tartare for your enjoyment. If there’s nothing else I can bring you, I’ll leave you to the appetizers.”
“We’re good, Reginald. Thank you.” Dean shoots the tall, thin man a smile. As our waiter heads across the small room, Dean scoops a spoonful of the delicate pink tartare and black caviar beads. “Let me feed you the first bite. This is the best tartare in North America. The caviar is pretty good, too.”
I open my mouth, hoping that I’m going to like it. Tartare and caviar aren’t exactly available in the places I usually eat – like the corner store or my favorite pizza shop. At the very least, I hope I can fake it.
But there’s nothing to worry about. As soon as the spoon goes into my mouth, I close my lips around it, taking the delicate mixture onto my tongue. A flavor explosion ignites my taste buds, and I can’t help but make a low sound of appreciation.
Apparently, I’m not opposed to the finer things in life – like Versace and caviar.
His eyes are filled with amusement and desire as he watches me savor the delicate morsels. “I want to feed you all night, just to hear the sexy sounds you make. I wonder how you’ll sound when I put something else in your mouth.”
I want to beg him to put hissomething elsein my mouth right now, but I’m also enjoying our weird foreplay and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles.
Instead, I lick my lips then say, “More please.”
“You’re a greedy girl, aren’t you?” he replies, spooning more heaven into my open mouth.
This time I lean forward when I make the sound, giving him a good look at what I hope he’ll be tasting tonight. The thought of him sucking on my nipples makes my core even tighter. The “no sex” thing over the past several months has turned me into a pulsating mass of need.
“So, how was work today?” I take a large drink of wine, hoping to get my mind out of the gutter – and his pants.
Laughter bursts from his mouth. “Mia Ford, you’re the most amusing woman I’ve ever met. I can’t figure you out.”
His words fill me with satisfaction for some reason. I barely know the guy and probably won’t see him again after tonight – but damn, he brings out feelings and desires I never knew I had.
He’s both dangerous and delicious – and exactly what I’m in the mood for – just like a hundred-dollar ice cream ball, an idea that was completely absurd to me even a week ago.
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” I run my fingers across the top of my cleavage and love how his eyes track my movements.
He shakes his head. “Everything from refusing to show me your beautiful face at the masquerade to sending me very thoughtful gifts to not wanting to meet until tonight…You’re not like any other woman I know.”
Laughter floats from my lips at his obvious understatement. “I’m willing to bet your penthouse on it.”
“How do you know I have a penthouse?”
I giggle. Legitimately giggle. “Lucky guess.”