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Cat lifted her second slice off the silver sheet pan and tipped the thin, droopy, wedge-shaped end into her mouth. Cassiel watched her with a rapt expression, his eyes following the food into her mouth and down her throat. He repositioned himself in his chair and took a deep breath.
“You’re a good eater,” he said, taking another bite.
She slowed down. Ashton hated it when she wolfed her food down. She put her piece back on the pan. Cassiel frowned.
“Don’t stop on my account. I like a girl who can eat.”
She wiped the grease off her fingers with a paper napkin. “You certainly don’t date girls who do,” she teased. “When’s the last time you went out with someone who wasn’t a size zero?”
He sat back and thought about it. “I date whoever wants to date me,” he said.
She threw her napkin at him, and he laughed. “Bullshit,” she said, calling it. “You don’t chase after any of the girls you date? They all throw themselves at you?”
He nodded, not even a hint of ego in his demeanor. “It’s always been like that,” he said, shrugging and taking another bite.
She believed him. Annoying as that was to think about, he was the kind of guy who didn’t have to chase women. They came to him, falling all over themselves, probably, to get into his bed.
“If you came after me, I wouldn’t say no,” he said under his breath. She caught it.
“Ha!” she said, bursting out laughing.
“What?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re attracted to me.”
“I amnot,” she said, recoiling from him.
His eyes sparkled with a challenge. He took a swig of the wine before Cat could remind him.
“Oh, no, don’t—” she tried to say, but it was too late. Cassiel’s face melted into a grimace, and he forced the mouthful down. She shook her head sadly. “Told ya.”
He coughed. “Literally the worst wine I’ve ever tasted.”
“It’s like when you burp, but there’s a little vomit in there, too—”
“Exactly!” he said, eyes wide that she’d nailed it so precisely. “It doesn’t taste like vomit, though.”
She shook her head, completely on board with what he was saying. “No, it’s sweet and grape-like, but it’s not wine. And that acid in the back of your throat?” She made a sour face.
He nodded appreciatively, spinning the wine around in his glass like a sommelier. Then he did the unthinkable and took another swig. They both grimaced together as he forced it down.
“Just as bad as the first sip,” he concluded. Then he pushed the wine away from him. He looked at her across the table for a few minutes. “You want to get out of here?”
She gaped at him. She was aware that there was some flirting going on between them, but the zero to sixty aspect of his approach was alarming. “Are you asking me if I want to go home with you?” she asked, offended.
He stopped breathing for a moment, and when he started again, she could see his chest rising and falling a bit faster than before. “Not tonight.”
There was a promise in his words that she could feel right down the center of her body as if his voice was rumbling in her chest. Cat suddenly did feel like a deer, frozen in his headlights.
He stood and threw a hundred-dollar bill on the table, and then cupped her arm in his hand loosely, guiding her to her feet before him, the proximity making her even more aware of how much bigger and taller he was than her.
“I’ll drop you at home,” he said. “That is, if you’re willing to get in a car with me?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, he just started guiding her out of Pie-zanno’s.
“Hey Jimmy,” she said on her way out the door.
“Hey yourself, Cat,” Jimmy called back in goodbye.
The slap of cold air on her cheeks after the overheating they’d had inside the pizzeria woke Cat up, and she realized that she hadn’t asked one question that she’d wanted to. The black Range Rover pulled up to the curb, facing the wrong way down the street, but Cassiel seemed unconcerned and opened the door for her.
She got in, but this time she had a plan. She was going to use this car ride to convince Cassiel to give her what shereallywanted.
