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"I've actually never had cognac before."
He tilts his head to the side, his striking gaze taking me in. "Try mine. If you like it, I'll order you one. If not, you can order whatever you like."
As I bring the low ball glass to my lips, I hesitate just as James leans in to whisper, "I'll give you my coat whenever you wish, but I'm glad you declined. It would be a shame to cover your beauty. That dress compliments you. You remind me of the Greek goddess Aphrodite."
My lashes fall to my blushing cheeks. His fingers tighten around mine. He's still stroking my hand and there's something sweet I find about that. I was excited when I got to put the dress on this morning. It's the orange and green scarf dress I’d fallen in love with when Natalie and I had gone clothes shopping. The material floats across my legs and the top fits my breasts just right. It makes me feel sexy.
Time to put my game face on.
"Aphrodite? I think you can do better than that."
The corners of his eyes crinkle. "Peitho. Goddess of seduction and persuasion." He pauses. "She was handmaiden to Aphrodite."
"James… I bet you say that to all the girls," I say coyly.
The top two buttons of his crisp white shirt are undone and I catch a glimpse of his chest hair.
The shake of his head is resolute. "I don't. I don't sugarcoat either. I'm very close to asking who designed it so I can have customs made for you. I bet you could entice the Devil himself in it."
My brows lift and I turn, giving him a view from behind. His gaze intensifies as he takes in my backless ensemble and a pleased smile slips across my face. The dress comes up just above my tailbone, leaving my back mostly bare, save for the thin, crisscross strings holding it together at the shoulders. James groans deep in the back of his throat like he's in a state of bliss seeing me like this, and fuck, that was hot. I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I do. The way he's looked at me in under a few minutes makes me feel absolutely gorgeous inside, which was something I didn’t know I needed until this moment. His reaction veils the revulsion I was feeling for myself earlier, and I relish in it.
"You're trying to kill me with this dress," he says, leaning in toward my ear. “You are so fucking sexy, princess.”
Princess. I giggle. I hate that nickname, but it works with the way he says it.
"I'm glad you like it. You look pretty dashing yourself, if I'm being honest."
I make sure my eyes slowly take in the length of his body, showing him that I actually mean it.
He leans in closer to me, whispering against my ear. "It's a good thing we're in public right now or else I would be ripping that dress off you." His beard tickles my skin as he speaks, and I lean toward him, savoring the feeling.
It’s another line I'm sure he says to all the girls, but I take the compliment anyway. I need all the praises I can get.
"I'm happy you like it. I'm in love with the floral print and material."
"I'm in love with the way it looks on you." James clears his throat and gestures to my hand still holding his drink. "I want to know what you think of the cognac. Tell me what you smell and how it tastes on your tongue."
I glance at my hand. I'd forgotten I was holding the glass, but I find it interesting that he's trying to have a real conversation with me.
Our eyes meet and I smirk from behind the glass. Swirling the liquid around, it coats the sides of the glass the way any good alcohol should, and the fragrance hits me quickly. "Is that lavender?"
James almost looks proud. "Lilac."
"That's the last thing I expected. I know there's some spices, but I’m not sure which ones. They remind me of holiday baking."
"Fair enough."
I can't stop smiling, and I realize with surprise that I'm actually having a good time. Taking a sip, I decide I'm going to be humorous about it. I lick my lips like I'm trying to be sophisticated and whip out the best English accent I can muster.
"The smoothness is a surprise and it leaves a pleasant aftertaste. The light notes of oak reveal candied fruit that's been stomped on with bare feet, then scooped into a barrel and hidden deep within the folds of eighteenth century wood. Out of five stars, I give this spirit a four point seven."
His blue eyes are gleaming. I'm going to call it early and say that he's happy with my performance.
"Aye, sir. What say you?"
His mouth twitches. "Did you just switch from English to Scottish?"
I pause for a moment, then burst out laughing. A breeze of wind rustles my hair. I'm giggling so hard I have to hold my stomach.
