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His lips quirked. “I won’t let you fall, lover.”
“Lover?”
“We’re lovers, aren’t we?”
I was grinning like a fool again. He did that to me, often. “Yes, I guess we are.”
Once I was inside the car, he buckled me in. I never had a man buckle my seatbelt before; it was strange and endearing at the same time.
“Hungry?” he asked as he turned on the ignition, his door whispering shut.
“Very.”
“Good.”
We pulled out of the garage and onto the road. I looked in the side mirror and recognized the black Mercedes SUV right behind us.
“Are they going to follow us everywhere?”
“That’s their job. Why? Does it bother you?”
“Not if keeps you safe.”
“Us safe.” He turned and pinned me with an alert glance. “You’re with me now.”
I didn’t want to paint the mood dark with an argument so I let the comment slide. “Who was that woman?” I could tell by his mixed expression that he didn’t want to discuss it. “Is she an ex?”
“No…but not because she hasn’t tried.” His brow creased and he gripped the steering wheel tightly.
“Why do you dislike her so much?”
“How do you know I dislike her?”
“You’re not the only one with the power of observation, lover.”
He gave me a brief smile and sighed deeply. “That’s a conversation for another night. I don’t want to think about her right now.” Cupping my small hand in his, he raised it to his mouth and kissed it.
“Okay,” I answered, because I knew better than anyone that some topics were poisonous and I didn’t want the smile to fade from his lips.
Chapter Twenty-Two
We pulled up in front of a building covered in ivy, a brass plaque reading Le Chat Botte next to the mahogany door. Sebastian put the car in park and Gideon Hirsch suddenly appeared, holding the driver side door open while he scanned the area with a razor sharp focus in his dark eyes. After Sebastian helped me out, he settled into the driver’s seat and drove away. We navigated around the rows of Rolls Royces, Porsches, and Mercedes that lined the curb outside the restaurant, typical of Geneva.
Inside, the bar area was richly styled, all dark wood and dim lighting. As we walked in, a whole crowd of heads swiveled to look at us. I stiffened immediately, my steps growing stilted. Sebastian looked back with a questioning glance, and when he noticed the tight look on my face, smacked a quick, hard kiss on my lips. Exuding that aura of superiority he always wore in public, he pulled me along and parted the sea of people that filled the bar without any effort. I followed in the wake of his magnificence with my chin down. Not even the expensive clothes helped stifle the overwhelming feeling that I was an imposter, a fraud playing at something I was poorly suited for. I wanted to shrink into a ball and roll away.
The maître d’ greeted Sebastian with excessive enthusiasm, an indecent smile on his mobile, carnal lips. He caught me glaring at him and pressed those lips into a forced smile.
“Mr. Horn, how wonderful to see you again. Your table is ready.”
Eyes all over the dining room continued to follow us as we were led to an intimate table in the corner, near the windows. It had a breathtaking view of the city. Night had fallen and the Jet D’eau was lit up. The maître d’ sat us across from each other and continued to devour Sebastian with his eyes––not that he noticed, suddenly absorbed in the wine list.
“That’ll be all, Jean. We’re taking our time tonight.” Jean finally unfastened himself from our table, albeit reluctantly.
“How do you do it?”
His gaze lifted from the menu. The ghost of a smile lingered on his sensual mouth. “Do what?”
“Innocence doesn’t suit you,” I counseled. He chuckled, looking young and carefree––for once. “How do you put up with the fawning masses?”
His eyes turned sulky, smoldering. “I’m only interested in one person fawning over me.”
“I think we can safely say that I’ve been fawning over you since the day we met.”
“That’s not true,” he replied, shaking his head. “I’ve had to work very hard to get you to fawn over me.” I fought to keep a straight face, but I just couldn’t do it when he was being so unabashedly sexy and charming. I must have fallen down a rabbit hole because two month ago I was contemplating eating my best friend’s discarded cheese sandwich, and now I was dining at the best restaurant in the city with this glorious sex god.
“Wine?”
“I’m allergic, order whatever you like.” Nothing gave me a blinding headache faster than a glass of wine.
“How about champagne then?”
“Yes, please.”
Sebastian looked up and Jean was at his side in a heartbeat. When his gaze returned to me, his eyes were devilish crescents, a smile in them that made me burst out in laughter.
