Page 46 of Captivated By You

Asher refusedto tell me our intended final destination, but as we descended, and the rust-red of the Golden Gate Bridge came into view, all lit up in the inky blackness, the cat leaped out of the bag.

“San Francisco?”

“Yeah. We have a hotel here right in the Marina District. The restaurant is on the top floor and overlooks the Golden Gate Bridge.” He flashed a grin. “Romance at its finest.”

My first trip to San Francisco, and I got to arrive on a private jet, escorted by a billionaire. Gia would go berserk if she were here.

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Ash. You’ve impressed me.”

He pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. It was a habit I’d begun to notice, and every time he did it, I wanted to kiss him. Kiss him and touch him and rub up against him until my clit stopped pulsing.

“I try.”

“Of course, money makes it easier to impress a girl.”

“True. Maybe next time, I’ll stick to a budget, and you can judge my creativity.”

“I’m a harsh critic.”

“And I’m a competitive bastard. High achievement is in my blood.”

The plane landing with a bump cut off my intended retort. I gripped the arms of the chair as the captain applied the brakes, throwing me forward slightly in my seat. We disembarked and headed toward another limousine, this one idling right at the bottom of the airplane steps.

“What, no red carpet?” I pretended to peruse a list, marking a cross against the imaginary piece of paper. “Black mark number one.”

He laughed, taking my elbow as he steered me into the lavish interior. The driver closed the door, and the car moved off, sweeping us out of the airport and onto the main highway. I gawped out the window as we headed north, but there wasn’t much to see in the dark. A half hour after we’d landed, the car stopped.

We’re here.

Asher swept us through the lobby and into a waiting elevator. We zoomed up to the top floor, the doors opening onto a restaurant buzzing with customers. I decided, in less than five seconds, that this was the kind of place where you had to sell a kidney just to afford an appetizer. The women were dripping in jewels, the men wore designer suits, and the smell of money filled my nostrils. Or maybe that was the caviar at two grand a portion. Probably. I hadn’t a clue what caviar cost, but I bet it wasn’t cheap.

Thank Christ I’d opted for this outfit. Imagine the horror if I’d dressed for a greasy burger joint. I peeked at Ash out of the corner of my eye. What would he have done if I’d dressed down in ripped jeans and a T-shirt I’d picked up at a festival last year? Would he still have brought me here? Yeah, I believed that he would. Ash wasn’t the kind of man to give a flying fuck what others thought.

“Mr. Kingcaid.” A man stationed behind a wooden podium beamed at us. “What an honor to have you visit us.”

He bowed, and I only just managed to snuff out a chuckle.Honor? Really?I checked Asher’s expression to see if he had the same tinge of disbelief at the man’s bowing and scraping as I did.

Nope.

Huh. Maybe this was normal for him.

“Please, follow me. I have your table ready.”

The host bustled off, positively preening, and seated us at a table that I had to admit was probably the best in the restaurant. Set in a private alcove, it gave the most incredible, breathtaking view of the Golden Gate Bridge, the lights reflecting off the water below.

“Emma will be your server this evening.”

He beckoned over a woman in her mid to late thirties, her hair tied back in a severe bun that tugged on her eyebrows, giving her a marginally shocked expression. She, too, beamed at us.

“I’m honored to serve you, Mr. Kingcaid. Would you like me to have the chef come over to discuss tonight’s specials?”

More honoring. At any moment, I expected the entire staff to line up and bow or curtsy. Maybe throw in a round of applause. Odd, considering that the time he’d shown me around the hotel in Seattle, I hadn’t noticed any overexuberant fawning. The staff had been polite, of course, like anyone would be to the CEO of the company they worked for, but this bootlicking was on a whole other scale.

“That won’t be necessary,” Asher said.

“Of course, Mr. Kingcaid. I’ll leave you to peruse the menu.”

And then she did this weird nod thing with her head. Lucky for me, I hadn’t taken a sip of the water she’d poured. I’d have spat it all over Asher’s suit. I waited until I was sure she was out of earshot, then leaned in.

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