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I laughed. “OK, you look like an even more handsome Irish James Bond. Forget the other one.”
His eyes moved up and down my body, his gaze sending a shiver up my spine. There was something magical about this man, the way he could turn me on with nothing more than a flick of his eyes.
“Does that mean you’re going for a Bond girl look here?” he asked. “If so, we’ll have to come up with a new name for you, one with some major sexual innuendo.”
I laughed, loving the way he touched me, so happy that I was there with him.
“What, like Ivana Screwalot or something?”
He chuckled. “Not exactly subtle. But I like where your head is at.”
Without another word, he leaned in and kissed me in the way I’d been thinking about all damn day. I fell into the kiss hard and fast, pressing my body against his and feeling his hardness against me. Part of me wanted to tell him that dinner could wait, that I wanted him to turn me around, pull up my dress, and screw me right then and there.
When he pulled his lips away, I knew I wasn’t going to be so lucky. The look in his eyes let me know he knew he could have me if he wanted. He was going to make me wait for it, however.
“Now,” I said. “You’re going to have to tell me what that smell is. I was already hungry when I showed up, but whatever you’ve got cooking has me on another level.”
“Happy to show you, love,” he said. “Come with me.”
He took me by the hand, leading me through the apartment and over to a raised area in front of the glass walls, the long table decorated like that of a fancy, five-star restaurant. The nearness to the wall allowed for a sweeping view of the city. Off in the distance, I could see that more storm clouds were on the way in, promising more of the same heavy rain that had been blanketing the Boston area over the last few weeks.
That was more than fine with me. Being stuck inside this gorgeous apartment with this gorgeous man during a storm sounded as close to heaven as I could imagine.
I turned my attention to the table. The centerpiece was a deep red Le Creuset Dutch oven, a tray of fresh bread next to it with a large helping of butter. Along with whatever the main course was, a big bowl of fresh salad with a nearby portion of dressing was situated.
“Please,” he said, placing his hand on the small of my back and leading me over to the chair on the far end. “Have a seat.”
He pulled the chair out for me in true gentlemanly fashion, pushing it back in as I sat down. Once I was seated, he retrieved a torch lighter from nearby, using it to set alight the two candles on both ends of the table. Those lit, he dimmed the overhead lights, creating a perfect romantic atmosphere.
I looked around the apartment, noting again just how tasteful and elegant the decor was.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” I began. “But this is not at all what I’d have expected the home of a man in your position to be like.”
He raised an eyebrow as he stepped over to the salad bowl.
“Is that right? What would you expect? A big Scarface poster on the wall?”
I laughed, the smirk on his face letting me know he was only having fun.
“I don’t know. I like it, though. I guess it’s my way of saying that you really know how to surprise me.”
“Happy to surprise.” He came over to where I sat with the salad and the dressing, using a set of wooden tongs to place a helping on the small plate next to the main one.”
“This is a homemade vinaigrette,” he said, spooning a bit of the creamy-looking dressing onto the salad. Once that was done, he set down the bowl and returned with a pepper grinder, cranking out a few twists of dark pepper onto the salad.
“This looks amazing,” I said.
“Hopefully it tastes amazing. I love to cook, but everything you’re going to try tonight is a first-time attempt.”
I picked up my fork and dabbed it into the dressing, bringing the tip to my mouth. The intense flavors hit right away. The dressing was rich but mellow, with touches of herb and a little bit of tang. It was amazing, so good that I probably could’ve had it straight.
“This is so good.”
He popped open the cork of a bottle of wine as I spoke. “Glad you like it. Really took no effort at all.” Connor came over, pouring a bit of red wine into my glass. I offered a little smile in response, loving his modesty.
Once my glass was full, he filled his own before sitting down. He raised his glass into the air.
“You remember the toast?” he asked.
