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He turned the conversation elsewhere so smoothly that only I seemed to notice it had been turned. It was the same grace I had just admired. Except this time, it felt like closing a door rather than opening one.

He caught me watching him, and under the cover of the tablecloth he pressed his knee lightly against mine, like the last minute hadn’t happened at all. And because everything else tonight was so easy, I let it.

Halfway through the evening, I felt a familiar hand brush lightly against my shoulder. I stood up.

“Charlotte, hi!”

She smiled as she stepped forward and wrapped me in a quick embrace. “Look at you,” she said as she leaned back. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you. Emerald silk was definitely the right choice.”

She glanced down at her dress with exaggerated satisfaction. “I was hoping you’d approve.”

“Always.”

“How has your day been?”

“Peaceful. I spent the morning at the spa. And yours?”

“Mine was considerably less glamorous. I spent most of it arguing with my publisher over commas.”

I laughed. “Who won?”

“The commas. They usually do.”

We stood together for a few minutes longer, enjoying the familiarity of each other’s company.

“We should schedule another spa day. Before life decides to become complicated again.”

“Next weekend?” I asked.

“Perfect.”

“I’ll bring the coffee.”

“I’ll bring the pastries,” Charlotte said. Someone called her name from across the dining room. She glanced over with an apologetic smile.

“Duty calls.” She squeezed my hand before disappearing back into the crowd.

As I turned back toward the table, I noticed Marcus speaking with one of the servers. Whatever he’d said required only a slight nod before the server disappeared toward the kitchens and Marcus returned to his place near the entrance. I thought nothing more of it.

A few moments later, dessert began making its way around the room.

I happened to glance across the dining room just as a server stopped beside Charlotte’s table before any of the others. Rather than the chocolate torte that was appearing around the room, he placed a small lemon tart before her. Charlotte’s face brightened with unmistakable delight. She laughed to herself, lifted the first spoonful in my direction with a grin, then happily took a bite.

I smiled and shook my head. Typical Charlotte.

After every table had been served, the staff reached ours. Later, as we lingered over coffee and dessert, Alexander leaned toward me just enough that only I could hear him.

“I’m very glad you came,” he said.

“So am I.”

His gaze remained on mine before drifting back across the room. “I had hoped today would end exactly like this.”

Without thinking, I slipped my hand beneath the table to find his. Instead of taking it, he drew a slow line up the inside of my wrist and higher. His hand found my thigh and continued moving over the silk.

“What are you trying to do to me?” I asked breathlessly.