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“How long has it been since you’ve seen them?”
“I go home for the holidays and special occasions. The first few hours are a bit strained, then things settle down. The point is it didn’t seem right continuing without you knowing who I am, or rather, what my background is.”
“Continuing…?” she murmured, raising her eyebrows.
“You know what I mean.”
She smiled. “Yes, I know what you mean, and I’m beginning to think you’re right.”
“I usually am, but about what specifically?”
“Fate bringing us together.”
“Ah, I see,” he said, picking up his glass again. “That should be our first toast of the night. To fate, may it always bring us good things.”
“Yes,” she said firmly, clinking his glass.
As she sipped the champagne a wave of happiness flooded her heart. Nick came from her world, a world no outsider could possibly understand, and while he may have walked away from his family, he’d be accepted by hers. But a thought suddenly popped into her head.
“Nick, did you order this champagne before we got here, or does Henri always send a bottle to your table?”
Smiling an enigmatic smile, he leaned across the table. “What do you think?”
* * *
Being the son of Carlo Vincelli meant his relationship with Bianca would be welcomed by her father, and Nick could see the hope dancing in Bianca’s eyes. He knew she wanted to believe he’d planned the champagne to celebrate the moment he’d reveal who he was, because he wanted to take things further.
He did.
It wasn’t just their family ties that made them perfect for each other. She craved his dominant control, the chemistry between them sizzled, and her rebellious streak only added to her appeal. Yet a vulnerable girl lived beneath her bravado, and his need to take care of her took his breath away.
“Please answer the question, Nick. Did you order this champagne before we got here?”
A wry grin crossed his lips, but he didn’t speak.
“I might tell you later if you’re a good girl,” he said with a wink. “You began this evening wanting to play, and we will. Tonight will be about choices. Check out the menu. I’ll be having the Dover sole. It melts in your mouth, and the almond sauce is incredible. I keep telling Henri to bottle it. He’d make a fortune.”
“In that case, I’ll have the same. That was easy. What’s next?”
“You can take off your panties—”
“I didn’t say I was wearing any,” she quipped, cutting him off.
Wordlessly retrieving a small notepad and gold pen, he unscrewed the cap and made a note.
“Two hard swats for interrupting,” he murmured, then placed the pad and pen on the table.
“What the hell?”
“Should I add two more for questioning me?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
As she bit her lower lip, he couldn’t hold back his grin.
“I’ll start again, and this time, you’ll let me finish,” he said sternly, raising one wicked eyebrow. “You can take off your panties, or go to the restroom and remove your bra. I’ll let you put it in your purse.”
“As opposed to what?”
“Carrying it back here dangling from your hand.”
