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Fletch ended the call and took the elevator down to the lobby. So, Claire was Seamus O’Donnell’s granddaughter. That could go a long way toward explaining how she had become a master thief, herself.
As he entered the lobby of the Savoy, he saw her waiting demurely close to the front door, as if she could make a hasty retreat or escape if needed. She looked stunning. Someday he would have to tell her that he much preferred her in her bohemian outfits to her high society cocktail dress. But he rather imagined he’d prefer her in no clothes at all.
The dress was a combination of saturated colors in barn red and olive green, which contrasted beautifully with her long, dark, curly hair. His cock tightened at the thought of sinking his fingers into her silky mane and feeling some of it tickle his thighs while he guided her mouth to his staff. The maxi dress had an open front design from the knees, which allowed the shimmering, gossamer-like fabric to trail behind her like a billowing cloud. The bodice was fitted, with tiny buttons all up the front to the deep V neckline, and the beautiful three-quarter sleeves had no lining. The dress was subtle in its impact. It wasn’t tight or cut too low or too high, but it made the most of everything Claire’s figure had to offer.
He smiled broadly as he crossed to her. He wondered if she had any idea how truly beautiful she was. How she had remained single and unattached was beyond him. He meant to change both of those statuses as soon as possible.
He shook his head a little. When had marriage and forever become a part of his crystalized dream of Claire? Sure, he wanted to get her into bed, and he thought there was a very real possibility that they could make a life together, but suddenly Fletch wanted it all—the ring, the wedding, maybe even some kids if she wanted. He could even see himself breeding great horses for her to compete on internationally.
Fletch took her hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss. “You look gorgeous. I’m surprised I didn’t have to fight my way through throngs of men throwing themselves at you and professing their undying love.”
The smile that lifted her lips wasn’t demure or shy. It lit up her entire face and was most easily seen in her twinkling blue eyes. “Hardly. Around here, I’m pretty much second shelf if not chopped liver.”
He linked his arm with hers as he started toward the restaurant. “I hope you don’t mind the Savoy. The food is excellent, and it’s a great place to sit and talk.”
“I’ve always wanted to come here, but it felt out of my league. I’m not, as you might have guessed, much of a fashionista.”
“I think you are so far above all these mere mortals that they should bow down as you walk past.”
Claire laughed. “You remind me of Poppi, my granda. He used to always say stuff like that, especially when some of the other girls teased me and hurt my feelings.”
“Where are these girls? Let’s have them hauled off to the Tower.”
“You’re kind of sweet when you’re off duty. I’d tell you that you’re gorgeous, but I don’t want you to get a swollen head.”
She had no way of knowing it, but the only swollen head he had was at the end of his engorged cock.
Fletch said nothing as they entered the restaurant and were shown to their table.
“As you’ve never been here, let me order for you. Anything you don’t like?”
“Mushrooms, broccoli, cauliflower, and olives.”
“Got it. What would you like to drink?”
“Water with ice would be great.”
“No wine?”
“I’m afraid not. I’m pretty much a water, beer, and Diet Coke girl with the occasional shot of tequila.”
He turned to the waitress. “We’ll have the Beef Wellington with pomme puree and glazed carrots. We’ll each have a house salad and start with splitting the Arnold Bennett soufflé. We’ll both have ice water and the Meantime Anytime Ale with our main course.”
“I think I like having someone order for me,” she said, relaxing back into the chair.
“I think you’d find you like having someone do things for you, or at least share them if you tried.”
“Maybe,” she said, nodding slowly.
The soufflé was out quickly, and the waitress cut it in half and served it on individual plates.
When she walked away, Claire grinned. “I don’t think she would have approved if we’d just dug into this thing with both our forks.”
“Probably not, but what do we care what she thinks.”
“True enough.”
They talked and asked each other about their pasts, their current lives, and even touched on their future plans. He noted Claire tried to steer the conversation back to him while answering very carefully about her own.
