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I watch the waiter fill our glasses. Then I take a small sip. "I do like it. It's good." I set my glass down, my curiosity growing. "Is the language you keep speaking Hungarian?"
"It is. I've picked it up over the years. I come here occasionally to see my cousin, who's in his last year at one of the universities in Budapest. I stay at his apartment above the pharmacy when I visit."
"That's pretty cool. Did you go to college here, too?"
"No, I went to university in England. I was at Oxford."
"Seriously? Talk about a prestigious school. That's amazing." Surprised, I try not to stare. "So, do you speak any other languages?"
"A few. I'm also fluent in Bulgarian and French and decent in German."
"Wow. I'm impressed."
"Don't be. It's fairly common for Europeans to speak another language other than their native tongue."
Dane smiles, and it's genuine, reaching to his eyes. The beauty of it strikes me. He has a set of perfectly straight teeth, and his lips have a sensuality to them that makes me believe they'd be deliciously kissable. And his voice is killing me. It's like silk caressing my skin.Damn Laurel for her advice.Between the wine, the atmosphere, and the sexy-as-hell man sitting across from me, I'm finding what she said hugely appealing.
Our waiter brings our food to the table as a group of musicians perform from a small stage set up in the corner. The music seems different but appealing.
"That's Hungarian folk music," Dane says.
I smile at him, enjoying the upbeat rhythm of the violins. I take a bite of my chicken, amazed by the flavor of the paprika sauce. I'm about to take another bite when my cell phone rings. Not wanting to disrupt the performance, I pull my phone from my purse and hastily answer it.
"Hello," I say in a hushed voice.
"You hung up on me and didn't call back. What happened? What did he say?" Laurel asks, sounding all worked up.
"I can't talk right now. We're at dinner."
"Wait. What? We, as in you and that guy? Dammit, I want details."
"Not now," I growl into the phone. "I have to go."
"At least tell me, did you buy the condoms?"
"Yes, I bought the condoms," I say with a hiss. "I'll call you later." I hang up and lay my phone face down on the table. I can't miss the amused expression on Dane's face. "Sorry, that was my sister."
"I gathered it was someone close based on your comments." The twitching at the corner of his mouth makes it obvious he's trying not to laugh.
"Okay, here's the thing, and don't you dare judge. My sister is a free-spirited type of person, and after I told her about myboyfriend's fling with my best friend, I've had to listen to her colorful opinions about how I should handle the situation."
"Hmm, I can see where this is going, but I'll wait until you say it. So, what was your sister's opinion?"
"She thought a no-strings-attached romp with some hot-looking guy would make me feel better and expel the toxic anger she insists I've stored up. I wasn't planning on using the condoms and only bought them so she'd shut up about it."
"Ah, I see. It makes perfect sense to me." Dane sounds sincere, although the corner of his mouth is twitching again.
We finish dinner and another glass of wine while we chat about Hungarian culture, cuisine, and some of the European countries he's visited. I'm relaxed. Too relaxed, I'm afraid, as my eyes go to the top button of his shirt and the little hairs visible on his chest. I lick my lip as I imagine myself unbuttoning the garment and running my hand across his skin, my fingers massaging his nipple before I lean in and capture it with my tongue.
Damn Laurel. Why did she have to call? And why did she have to mention having a fling?
I squirm in my chair and then freeze.Oh, fuck, not now. I bring my clenched fist to my mouth and lean on my elbow, trying not to move my lower body. The seam of my pants is perfectly positioned between my legs and threatens to give me a jolt of pleasure should I move the right way.
Dane cocks his head, studying me. Then he gives me a sly smile. His voice is silky and suggestive when he says, "Based on how you're looking at me, I have to ask. Am I dessert?"
I look up and meet his gaze before mine slides down to his lips, which he's skimming with the tip of his tongue. I curse Laurel and the wine.
"Do you want to be?" I shift my hips and bite my knuckle.
