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Shaky legs carry me forward, and I’m nervous as hell, but I feel triumphant at this accomplishment. Plus, from the salacious stare Dante is still giving me, there’s the added bonus of feeling like the sexiest woman alive.
I’m so glad I came.
I had doubts right up until I got into my car, but I shoved them and my worries to the back of beyond and decided to just drive.
Before I reach him, I smile, and he gets up to close the remaining space between us, again in that gentlemanly manner he used the other day.
“Hello.” His voice falls over me like a light summer rain. I’m further mesmerized when he lowers his mouth to kiss me on my cheek.
“Hi.” I find my voice and smile wider when he walks around me, looking me up and down from head to toe.
“Wow, you look amazing.” He stops before me and holds my gaze.
“Thank you.”
“Is that for me?” He glances at my dress.
I was already blushing; now I really am.
“Maybe.” I look down at my little dress that still looks as beautiful as it did on the mannequin in the store. Yes, I did wear this for him. I was never sure I’d make it, but it was a just-in-case. Now I’m glad I tried.
Thanks for the advice, Harper. I finally carpe diemed something.
“I’m sorry I got here late. I had a prior engagement I couldn't get out of, and it kind of ran over.”
“That’s okay. You're here now.”
“I am.”
“Are you glad you came?”
“Definitely. I hope I’m not cutting into any other plans you might have.” I felt I should say that to be polite. There’s no way I’d expect this man to be waiting for me for the entire night, or to accommodate my lateness if he had somewhere else to be.
A smile I can only describe as sinful lifts the corners of his sensual lips, and there’s a wicked glint in his eyes that makes me think that maybe, just maybe he did wait for me.
“I’m all yours.” He makes a show of placing his hand over his heart. “You’re not late at all. Come on, let’s sit.” He waves his hand toward the setup on the table which has a tray with a bottle of very expensive-looking wine sitting in a crystal bucket of ice and two long-stemmed wine glasses. Even that looks sexy.
I sit where he points and he sits beside me, leaving a few inches between us so our knees brush against each other.
Nerves fill me all over again when I look at him. I’m not sure how to act or what to say from here onwards. Apart from the other night, I’ve never gone to a club by myself to meet a guy. I’ve always gone with my friends.
Even when I was with Jared, we always went out with friends. Be it dinner or otherwise. It was hardly ever just us, so this is all new to me and possibly the most daring thing I’ve ever done—which is nothing to most people.
“You look like a wine person,” Dante says with a grin. “I hope I got that right.”
“Yes. I’m not a huge drinker, but wine is definitely my favorite.”
“I thought so. The bartender told me your friend ordered one of our sweet wines, so I thought you’d like this.” He points to the wine in the bucket. “I have another on the way up which might be more your taste.”
I appreciate the way he’s trying to figure out what I like.
“Thanks. That’s sweet of you.”
He laughs. “I can’t remember the last time anyone called me sweet.”
I’m about to comment because I believe him, but the black glass door to our left opens and an Italian-looking man walks in carrying another bottle of wine that looks equally as exquisite as the one we have.
Dante’s face brightens when he sees him, and he gets up to greet him with a handshake. The man looks older, probably in his sixties, and is wearing an expensive suit. I don’t think he’s a bartender here or even works at the club.
