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When I gaze up and meet his brown irises, the world stops for a minute. His finger caresses the outline of my lips, and they part in reaction to his touch.
"I'll kiss these lips tonight.”
Electricity pulses through my core, and a light throbbing sensation emanates between my legs.
"You and your lips have been on my mind every single day since I met you, Emma." He removes his finger, but we keep eye contact. Feeling brave and sexy, I push myself on my toes and reply, "If we kiss, don't hold back."
He sucks in a sharp breath as I brush my cheek over his chiseled jaw before pushing myself away from him and walking towards the passenger side of his car. When I reach his Porsche, I turn and face him. A toe-curling smile illuminates his handsome face.
"Deal."
We both get in the car, and when I fumble at my dress, Nick places a hand on mine.
"Relax, Emma."
Twenty minutes later, my mouth drops open when Nick parks.
"This is the new Italian restaurant that opened last month." I gaze at Nick, who only nods with a satisfying smirk. "There's a ridiculous waiting list here. This is too much, Nick. It's way too expensive and—"
A firm finger presses against my lips. "Stop talking. I'm taking you out to dinner, so enjoy it."
I nod my head.
"Wait here."
Nick gets out, walks around the car, and opens my door. He holds out his hand, and I accept. After locking the vehicle, he puts one hand on my lower back as we walk to this luxury establishment. A man opens the door while another walks towards us the minute he sees us walking through it.
"Nick Brown, so nice to see you came."
"Yes, sorry. Let's say I waited for the right company," Nick says, smiling at me, and the man meets my gaze.
"Good evening, miss. My name is Damon."
"Emma," I respond.
"Follow me. I have the best table for you two."
As we follow Damon, my eyes flow over the interior of this place. Brown marble floors and dark wooden chairs cloaked in red velvet add to the allure. The high ceiling makes the place look spacious and airy.
We stop at a table in a niche where they placed a long, red velvet couch inside instead of chairs. It has a private, intimate ambiance.
"Thank you, Damon. It's perfect." Nick smiles.
"Please, don't thank me. You’re the one who helped me make my dream come true," he replies with a bright grin.
Nick shrugs his shoulders. "It's fine."
I catch Nick running his hand through his hair. I've seen him do it many times tonight, and I wonder if it's a nervous habit, but I have a hard time imagining that this confident, successful, fearless entrepreneur knows the meaning of nervousness.
"Could you bring over the menus and something to drink, please?" Nick asks with kind authority.
"Of course," Damon nods. "Anything to drink, miss?"
"Let's start with a red wine," I say.
"Since I'm driving, add a soda for me."
Damon nods and walks away as we take a seat.
