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“Why? What changed?”
“You hit a few hotspots back there in the car. This place makes me become way too much like my father and my brother for my own liking, and I’m certain, yours. They taught me to distrust and attack. The SEALs and the Bennett family taught me to reserve judgment and give people the benefit of the doubt. I prefer that version of me.”
“Meaning me? You’re going to give me the benefit of the doubt?”
“Yes.” He strokes my hair behind my ear, and despite the chill of the night, his touch is fire. “You. Definitely you, but I don’t trust my judgment with you, Harper. I’m way too invested.”
“Invested?”
“You know I am or I wouldn’t behere.”
“You have a lot to be invested in here that isn’t me.”
“Nothing I want to be invested inbut you.”
“But you—”
“Left. I know. And as I said, I’m here now. This time is different.”
“Despite all of your anger, I do believe it is.”
“We’ll talk about my anger. We’ll talk about a lot of things.” And with that coded promise, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and turns me toward the front of the house. “Let’s go get that pasta.”
He sets us in motion and for a short bit, we stroll the path to the restaurant in what is surprisingly comfortable silence. “Tell me about Harvard.”
“I got into some trouble when my mother was sick. We had money issues and I shoplifted. It fucked up my academic history.”
I’m stunned at this confession and I want to ask about it, but we’ve reached the door of the restaurant. He opens the door for me and we’re greeted by a hostess that takes our coats and promptly escorts us to a half-moon-shaped booth. I slide in one side as Eric goes to the other and when I think we’ll sit across from each other, he scoots all the way around and pulls me close, his hand on my leg.
I am thrilled by the way he touches me, and seems to want me close, butterflies in my belly, fluttering about.
“This okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, sounding a bit breathless, but how can I not? He’s touching me. “It is,” I add and my voice is not one bit stronger.
“Good.” His voice is a low rasp, his eyes warm and reluctant as they leave my face and focus on the waitress who’s just appeared. “Let’s start with drinks.” He looks at me again. “You do like wine, right?”
“I like the idea of wine. I love trying it.”
He laughs, a low, sexy laugh. “You sure you like trying it?”
“I do,” I promise. “I really do.”
“Then I’ll order my favorite here and you can tell me what you think.” He works out the details with the waitress and when she departs, his elbow settles on the back of the booth as he rotates to face me and I do the same of him. We were close moments before, but somehow closer now that we’re facing each other, the air crackling between us. “You still feel like I’m your enemy?” he asks softly.
“I should askyouthat. I’ve never seen you as the enemy. And if you think taking over the company makes me see you as that, itdoesn’t. The only thing that makes you my enemy is if you turn on me or my mother.”
“Your mother is aligned with my father.”
“I know,” I regretfully admit. “I’ve tried to get her to see that we have real problems, but she’s blinded by love. I feel like there’s something illicit going on. She’s not involved, she’s just not helping to solve the problem. So, I’m asking you to please keep her out of this. I’m begging you.”
His eyes narrow in a barely perceptible way. “There are very few things I would even ask you to beg for, all of them involve pleasure.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and mischief burns in his eyes. “You have my word.”
I have his word, but I’m not sure if he just told me he’s going to make me beg for pleasure, or he’s going to protect my mother. And I need to know. For my mother, I need to know. “Eric—”
“Your wine has arrived,” the waitress announces, but his eyes, those gorgeous, intelligent eyes hold mine, seconds passing before he says, “I’ll protect her Harper, as long as she deserves it.” With this, he turns his attention to the waitress who hands Eric a sample of the wine and waits for his approval before filling our glasses.
