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“You’re not the first person to suggest that, but I want to be involved in making movies, not just watching them.”
“Why don’t you start a blog?”
“Huh. That’s not a bad idea. I’ll think about it.”
The sweeping entrance to the luxurious hotel came into view, and pulling to a stop at the valet parking, they stepped out and started across the short, quaint bridge into the hotel grounds. But as they ambled down the path to the restaurant, he abruptly took hold of her elbow.
“Now it’s my turn to make something clear,” he said firmly, locking her eyes as he stared down at her. “There will be no discussion about Kurt Fielding or anything else related to Continental. There will be no discussion about your job interviews, and there will no discussion about my work.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TW0
HIS FINGERS HAD TIGHTENEDaround her arm sending her heart racing, and though she wanted to respond with a quip, nothing came to mind.
“Do we understand each other, Emma?”
Not trusting her voice, she nodded her head, and though he dropped his hand away, a second later he wrapped his fingers around hers and led her into the dining room.
She was breathless.
His authoritative lecture had sent her butterflies fluttering, and she felt a warm wetness between her legs.
“Mr. Taylor, good to see you again,” the Maitre d said with a smile, then carrying two menus, he guided them to a cozy alcove table.
“Would you care for cocktails?” the drinks waiter asked, appearing as the Maitre d left.
“I’d like a Black Orchid if the bartender knows how to mix one,” Emma replied. “Otherwise a martini—dry.”
“Yes, madame, and for you, sir?”
“Bring me your wine list. When you return with the cocktail I’ll let you know.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Tell me,” Zach began, grinning at her as the waiter moved away, “which Emma will grace me with her presence tonight?”
“Excuse me?”
