He reaches for his glass of wine. “So you must take after your dad.”
“Yes… unfortunately.”
He frowns. “You’re doing it again,” he scolds.
“What do you mean?”
He sets his glass of wine down, and raises a brow. “Unfortunately?You’re gorgeous, Clara.”
I decide not to argue with him. He obviously needs glasses, but I won’t tell him that. “And you… how did you get those amazing blue eyes?”
His smile is playful. “They’re something, aren’t they?”
“Wow… someone’s confident,” I tease. “But yes, they’re quite something… with your dark complexion.”
“I’m the only one who has them. There are a lot of blue eyes on my dad’s side. My dad’s ancestors are from northern Italy.”
“A gift from God,” I tease. “What does it feel like to be so handsome?” I ask half-teasing, half-serious.
His smile fades. “I just want people to know that I’m not just a pretty-faced, spoiled rich boy. No matter what I do, I can’t live that down. No matter how hard I study, work, no matter how involved I am in philanthropy… I can’t get away from people’s misconceptions.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t feel sorry for you,” I quip. “Can I fetch you a tissue, a shot of bourbon to drown your sorrows?”
He kicks me under the table.
“Aye… that freaking hurt,” I scoff. “You… jerk.”
He shoots me a playful wink. “You deserved it, you little smart-mouthed troublemaker.”
I bite my lip, conceding. He’s right.
We stare at each other for a long beat, and I wonder what’s going on in that gorgeous head of his.
“I really want to kiss you right now,” he says softly.
My breath hitches at the sound of his words, words I very much like. “And I… I really want you to kiss me too.”
He smiles. “But I promised I would be a gentleman tonight.” He shrugs and sighs. “Alas, I cannot kiss you.”
What?! C’mon.
He’s teasing again, and he’s so, so very good at it. He’s driving me absolutely bonkers. And it’s not even seven o’clock yet.
He busies himself getting our dessert while I quietly seethe. But all is forgiven when I get my first taste of the most delectable Tartufo I’ve ever had.
And just as we’re polishing off our dessert, he asks me with an impish expression, “Up for a little game after dinner?”
Yes! I’m definitely up for a little game.
