AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When I reach him, I try to summon confidence despite the bats fluttering around in my belly.
“Hi,” I say, mentally giving myself points for channeling my inner Marilyn Monroe. “Here at your request.”
The beautiful man stretches out one long arm with a thick Rolex strapped around his wrist, and the corners of his lips lift into a sexy smile. The sight makes me think of forbidden things I shouldn’t contemplate. Definitely not when I promised Dad I’d give Nathan a chance.
But Dad isn’t here right now.
I take his hand, and he gives me a brief handshake. His hand is warm and dominating in contrast to my dainty one.
“Knight Grayson,” he speaks in a deep voice that matches the opulence of his presence.
I work his name through my mind and confirm I definitely haven’t heard of him. Trust me to be the only woman in New York who hasn’t heard of a man who’s been in the news for a month.
“Pleased you accepted my request,” he adds. There’s a slight accent to his voice I can’t quite place. It makes me believe I was right about him being from the Mediterranean. I’m not sensing Italian, though.
My father works with a lot of Italians at Wright Investments, so I’d pick up on the accent straightaway.
“Me too. I’m… Aurora Wright.”
“Nice name.”
I smile back at him, appreciating the compliment. “I’m glad you like it. Thank you for the offer to join you for a drink.”
“I figured you’d have more fun with me than staring at your plate.” His voice pours over me, warm and cool like light rain on a hot summer’s day. “Food not to your liking,Goddess?”
Goddess?
Me?
I’ve been called beautiful several times in my life, but goddess is next-level perfection. Coming from him, it feels like a huge compliment when he’s the one who looks like the statue of a Greek god come to life. The closest I ever got to being a goddess was in tenth grade when I played Persephone in the school play.
When Knight intensifies his stare, I remember he asked me a question. About the food. The food that Elena is now clearing away.
“No, it wasn’t the food.” I place a hand to my heart, as if to give my words more truth. “I’m… just kind of having a bad day.”
He searches my face. “I see. Well, maybe you’ll have a different kind of night with me.”
“Maybe.”
He flashes me a crooked grin and motions toward the frosted glass doors leading out onto the terrace. “Follow me.”
When he moves, I fall in step with him, and he presses his palm to the small of my back, radiating ripples of heat through my body.
My day already feels like it could be different because of this unexpected turn of events. I wonder how the rest of the night will play out.
We walk onto the terrace, where we’re bathed in a mixture of moonlight and amber from the overhead lights. The same metallic colors of champagne and burgundy inside the restaurant are out here.
One of the new waiters approaches us with a gracious smile.
“This way, please.” He waves toward the furthest booth in the VIP area, and I understand why this section is booked out for months.
With the wooden gazebo built around the seats and long white curtains flowing down like wings, it looks like something you’d see in the Caribbean. The ships in the harbor behind us add to that vision.
The waiter seats us, then stands by Knight to take our orders.
“A bottle of Château Lafite?Rothschild Pauillac, please,” Knight asks, his accent thicker. Now that I’ve heard it clearer, I guess it to be French.
I also haven’t failed to notice how he ordered a thousand-plus-dollar bottle of wine as if it were water.
