Page 101 of Unraveled

“We have, yes.”

Cara’s brow furrowed. “We?”

As far as she had been told, this was supposed to be a dinner for only her and Gian, no one else. She certainly hadn’t expected guests to be included, too.

Gian bent down to kiss her forehead, his fingers pressing lightly to her back to urge her to walk forward. “Seems I wasn’t the only one who made reservations here, tonight. They suggested we merge the tables, and I didn’t want to be rude.”

“Like you give a shit about being rude.”

He chuckled. “For some people, I do.”

“Well, who is it?”

“Constantino and Stephan, actually.”

Cara didn’t bother to hide her discontent.

Gian only laughed harder. “We’ll be gone before you know it, and I know you were told to pack a bag to stay with me tonight at the penthouse, so stop moping.”

“I’m not moping.”

“What would you call that frown, then?”

Cara eyed him from the side as she said, “A displeased smile.”

“Nice try. Don’t mope, love. It’s not a good look on you.”

“I wanted you to myself all night. I’m not asking for a lot.”

Gian pulled her impossibly closer. “I’ll make up for it, but if you insist on that moping of yours, I’ll be forced to take whatever action necessary to put an end to it.”

“Including having dinner alone?”

“I told you, it would be rude.”

“Then, how—”

“I do own this place, and there’s a lovely private office in the back. Private in the way that no one can see inside, but they can certainly hear a lot.”

Cara’s body heated instantly. “Stop that.”

“I’ve given you fair warning. Stop the moping. Fix your face, beautiful.”

She shot him a playful glare before plastering on a smile that made Gian nod in approval. She had done it just in time, too, as they rounded a half-partition wall to come to a stop at what would be their table.

Constantino and Stephan—a man she hadn’t seen since that night months ago, at the club with Bambi—sat chatting together, seemingly unaware that Cara and Gian had arrived. They only took notice when Gian pulled out Cara’s chair, and then pushed her in closer to the table.

“Evening, cousin,” Constantino greeted.

“Constantino,” Cara replied.

Stephan only nodded at Cara before going back to his conversation with Constantino, like she wasn’t even at the table. Cara didn’t mind, really.

Gian’s fingers stoked Cara’s thigh under the table after he too had taken his seat, though his hand never wandered higher. No, he simply continued his light, teasing touches, reminding her of his earlier threat to make her smile, if needed.

The bastard.

God, she loved this man.