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My eyes fall to my glass of water as I take a sip but realize it’s empty. I go in search of the waitress in major need of a distraction. Whenever Damien looks at me, it’s like he’s looking at me. Not in a simple connection sort of way. More intense. As if he’s trying to get below my skin. Read me from the inside out.
Unable to stall any longer, I bring my eyes back to his. And the second I do, I know I’ve made a mistake. Those amber flames burn into me, making it impossible not to get lost in his tantalizing gaze. I wait for him to reply, follow up with anything to my babbling, but he doesn’t. And his stare continues to do something to me down below.
He’s clearly a professional at the stare off game, because the room becomes a billion degrees hotter and my clothes suddenly feel too heavy over my now flushed skin. A second longer and I’m going to rip my shirt off and beg him to use those lips of his to cool me down. I call it quits and pull my eyes away from his. I hear a soft chuckle from across the table, but I don’t dare make eye contact. I scan the room, searching for anything that won’t trigger my hormones at the way his lips were pressing against the antique cup or the way his throat was contracting as he swallowed the sake. I shove what I believe to be a California roll into my mouth for distraction. Chewing down the gigantic bite, I can’t help but think about how damn sexy he looks in his casual pair of jeans and a crisp white Henley. To think I even tried to convince myself he was nothing to call home about. A muffled laugh travels up my throat and echoes throughout the restaurant. I quickly cover my mouth, not meaning to laugh out loud.
“Now I feel like I’m missing out. What’s so funny?”
“Um, nothing. Was thinking about…uh, school and—”
“The truth, Jensen.”
Dammit.
My mouth opens and closes, and I lift my eyes to his as my belly immediately tightens. “I was admiring your beauty.” There, I said it. And…what in the hell did I just say?
Damien lets out a soft chuckle. My face heats to a deep shade of red. He refills his sake cup and empties it in one swallow. Setting it down, he picks up his napkin and taps at his wet lips. Jesus, I want to be that napkin, pressed against those lips, feeling them on my skin. My sake cup is up, and I take an unladylike chug. Again, I choke. Man, didn’t I learn the first time?
“I believe you’re the beauty here.”
And… I choke again. It’s not every day that a sex god compliments me and calls me a beauty. So, excuse me while I suffocate on the meaning of his words. Not to mention the disgusting drink.
“Are you all right?” He reaches over, handing me his napkin.
I cough again, clearing my airways. “Yeah, fine. Sorry, your joke…good one.” I cough one more time. “And you don’t have to do that. There’s no reason to wine and dine me. Literally. I signed the contract. Unless you want to void it, there’s no need to fabricate things just to—”
“Don’t discredit me,” he cuts me off.
“I’m not. I’m just saying, I think calling me beautiful is a little much, don’t you think?”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t think it.”
I stare at him.
He stares back.
I bust out laughing. “Oh, please! You don’t think I’m gonna fall for this, do you? Capturing me with those sexy eyes, luring me into believing I’m some beauty and giving me some bullshit courage so I fall at your feet…trust me, it won’t work. I know what I look—”
Damien abruptly stands and tosses his napkin on the table. My mouth hangs open, startled at his sudden move.
“Get up. Let’s go.”
Shit.
“Why? I didn’t mean to—”
“Now.” He steps away from the table and stands next to me, towering over me, until I remove the napkin from my lap and rise from my chair. Damien throws a wad of money onto the table and grabs my hand, escorting us out of the quaint restaurant.
Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut. Let him do his thing and feed me lies. Allow me to believe I’m beautiful. Now, not only have I made him mad, but I’m sure I just succeeded in getting our contract voided.
We step outside, and I turn toward where his car is valeted, but he pulls me in the opposite direction. I open my mouth to ask where we’re going, but in a few short steps, he’s opening the door to a fancy shop next door.
The bell above the door dings as we enter what seems to be an elegant dress boutique. “Damien, what are we doing here?” I ask, looking around. He doesn’t answer me. He’s yet to release me. Looking at the array of lavish gowns, Damien tugs me toward the back, forcing me to step onto a raised platform, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling mirrors. “What are we—”
