Page 22 of Forbidden Romeo

“—some sleek sky rise with a concierge out front,” I finish with a mutter.

“I can find us a B&B if you’d prefer,” Jack teases. “But I promise you, the restaurant here is better than anywhere else in the city.”

I scowl at him. “Does your family pay you to do promotion?”

He laughs loudly at this and simply takes my hand and walks us up to the door.

Before we enter, he comes to an abrupt halt and looks at me with an unreadable expression on his face. “Could you, er… wait here a moment?”

“Why?”

“I just need to sort something out with reception.”

I nod as innocently as I can as he turns away and approaches the front desk. I count three seconds before quietly following behind.

Was it growing up in the mob that made me suspicious? I wonder. Or is it something I’m naturally prone to? Either way, this guy is already too good to be true. In my experience, that’s usually because they are.

The inside of the hotel is a tasteful fusion of high-end minimalism and historical pieces. Huge Renaissance-style masterpieces litter the walls, and I take a seat by the interior fountain to eavesdrop on Jack’s conversation.

“Good evening, sir!” the cheerful receptionist greets him in clear recognition. At least he wasn’t lying about knowing the place.

I watch as Jack nods in response. “Evening.”

“My apologies, we weren’t expecting you.”

I lean forward a little.

“Don’t apologize; this is an impromptu visit.” Jack brushes it off. “I need a table for two in the sky lounge, somewhere discreet.”

“Of course, sir, I’ll let them know you’re on your way up.”

I watch as Jack pulls something from his jacket and places it on the counter before leaning in closer to say something I can’t quite make out.

The receptionist merely smiles in response. “Have a good evening, sir.”

With a knock at the counter, Jack turns around with a satisfied smile. Before he spots me and his face drops entirely.

He strides over sheepishly. “Listen—”

“You never had a reservation, did you?” I accuse, unable to keep the smile from my face.

Jack’s shoulders sag in relief. “Can you blame me for wanting to spend more time with you?”

I stand, brushing off my dress as I do. “You could have just asked.”

“Would you have said yes?”

I look up at him, suddenly feeling quite vulnerable under the intensity of his gaze. “Yes.”

He gives me that heart-wrenching smile again and offers me his arm. I take it carefully and allow myself a moment of indulgence to admire the subtle texture of the muscles beneath his shirt.

Jack leads me to an elevator, and we ride it all the way to the top. It’s so high, I can feel my ears pop slightly—but it’s worth it as soon as we step out into the restaurant. Every wall is made entirely of glass, forming a huge dome that offers a 360-degree view of the city below. And the view is simply breathtaking.

“You’re not scared of heights, are you?” Jack says, leaning in a little too close to be casual.

I simply shake my head, and he takes my hand. He leads me through the restaurant toward the far edge of the room, where a private booth has already been set up for use. Whoever this man is, he clearly wasn’t lying about having friends in high places. Quite literally, it seems, in this case.

Jack shows me to my seat, but I bypass him altogether to press my face up against the glass. I’ve always loved looking at New York like this, the way all the tiny cars move through the streets, watching the lights in the high rises flicker on and off. A city that never sleeps.

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