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She shook her head, her hair swaying with the movement. Those dark locks rested like feathers over her natural firm tits. I watched as she slowly tucked her hair behind her ear, never taking her eyes off mine as she leaned closer, her glorious breasts rising with her breath. I looked, taking in the tops of that beautiful flesh, willing myself not to reach out and touch her. Right there. In front of everyone.
“You are smooth. I have no doubt about that, Mr. Blaire.”
Jesus.It was fucking hot in here.Shewas fucking hot in here. “A glass of your sangiovese,” I told the bartender. “They don’t have Moretti wines here,” I scoffed as the beautiful woman before me perused the wine menu. “I already checked.” She looked at me, and I flashed her a hungry grin.
My heated flirtation and obvious interest in her family’s label earned a heartfelt laugh. She leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “Yeah, this place is kind of a dive. Right?” I inhaled her scent again, honey and woman. I wanted her to be my woman, and I had to get a nibble of her. Tonight.
I appreciated her trying to turn down the heat. If she didn’t, I was going to lift her off that barstool and carry her to my bed. “I know. Sheesh. Who decided on this dump, anyway?”
“I believe”—she ran her finger down my tie, back up, circled her hand, and tapped me on the nose—“that was you.”
We leaned into one another and shared a laugh. She and I both knew I’d take her to only the best hotel. It’s the least she deserved.
“To a bright and beautiful beginning,” I said, raising my glass to hers when her wine arrived.
“Cheers.” She smiled at me over the rim of her glass and sipped the rich red liquid.
“How’d your interviews go?” I asked, genuinely curious, although still a bit disconcerted that a job might take her away from Monarch. Away from me.
“Good.” She took another sip and smiled. “This is nice. Excellent choice.”
“I’ve been doing my research. Plus, I’ve had a good teacher who’s offered a little one-on-one attention.”
“Oh.” She licked her lips. “Sounds like Jenny’s been quite the help.”
I clinked my glass to hers again. “And you.”
Her eyes sparkled as she brought her glass to her lips again. “Yes. You’re a quick study, Mr. Blaire.”
“When it comes to something I want, absolutely.” I held her gaze. I didn’t know how long we’d be able to keep up this charade. But it was fun playing.
Our conversation stayed on the light and flirty side for several minutes while she talked about her interviews. Until her phone rang. “Sorry,” she said, reaching into her bag and pulling it out. I detected a scowl cross her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She turned her phone to silent and tossed it back into her purse.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” She touched her hand to mine, her smile less full than a moment ago.
“Is it about work?”
“No.” Her smile seemed fake, but I didn’t want to pry. “I think I’m going to need another glass.”
I could tell something was bothering her. I raised my hand, gesturing to the bartender that we’d both take another round. “So, do you have a preference?”
“For what?” she asked, blinking. She seemed to have lost all train of thought.
“The restaurants. Any preference over which place you’d rather work?”
She took a moment to think. “They’re both great options. Different vibes, different cuisines. But I think I’d be happy at either of them.”
“That’s good.”Not really. Not for me. “I’m sure you’ll have your choice. From what I’ve heard, you’re amazing in the kitchen. And from what I’ve tasted so far, you’re quite delicious. Your cooking and baking, that is,” I added with a laugh.
Her eyes shimmered, the golden specks flickering with the candlelight from the bar. “You have quite the way with words, Michael.”
She was still flirting, but she was also going through this second glass a lot faster than she had the first. Yep, something was definitely up. But I figured it would be best if I didn’t pry.
