Elliot gives me a slow, sexy smile and leans down and takes my lips in his. “It didn’t hold me there, put it that way,” he murmurs against my lips; his thumb rubs back and forth over my cheekbone as he stares down at me.
Oh . . .
Good grief, this man wrote the book on seduction.
I already want my dessert too.
I smile bashfully as I feel my cheeks heat.
He’s so intense.
He pulls back and licks his lips, tasting my lipstick. “In a moment, Andrew is going to drop you at the restaurant. We will circle the block and you will go in and say you are a guest of Mr. Miles—they will take you to a private dining room.”
My face falls.
“I’ll join you in two minutes. We’ll have privacy this way.” He lifts my hand and kisses the back of it as if to soften the blow; he can sense my disappointment. “You’ll get used to it, sweetheart,” he says softly. “This is how I am.”
I fake a smile and turn my attention out of the window; he doesn’t want to be photographed with me.
Stop it.
“Maybe I should do a runner before you get there,” I murmur.
He chuckles. “Try it and see what happens to you.” He lifts my hand to his lips once more. “I would track you down.”
“I can run fast,” I tease.
“I run faster.”
We stare at each other and I get the feeling that on some level I’ve just been warned.
He likes control.
“We don’t have to go to a restaurant if you don’t want to,” I offer. “Seems like a lot of hassle.”
“No, I’ve booked already. It’s my favorite, the food and cocktails are to die for. You’ll like it, I promise.”
I nod and he holds my hand on his lap.
Moments later the car pulls up outside an Italian restaurant. I can see a few photographers seated on crates just up the road.
“I’ll let you out around the corner, Kate,” Andrew says casually.
“Okay.”
The car turns the corner and pulls over. “Just go into the foyer of Bella Donna and tell them you’re a guest of Mr. Miles, they’re expecting you,” Elliot reminds me.
I nod. “Okay.” I go to get out of the car and he pulls me back into the seat and kisses me once more. My nervous eyes flick to Andrew in the front seat as he stares straight ahead: how many times has he seen this scenario?
This is weird.
I pull out of his kiss and open the car door in a rush.
I walk around the corner and into the restaurant.
The hostess smiles. “Hello.”
“Hi, I’m a guest of Mr. Miles.”
The woman fakes a smile and looks me up and down. “Of course, this way please.”
I follow her through the restaurant and she opens a large door and we walk down a corridor; she opens another double door and there’s a room with its own fireplace and a table set for two. It’s lit with candles and the room is ultra-romantic.
She pulls out a chair and takes my coat. “Can I get you a drink while you wait for Mr. Miles?”
I stare at her, she knows the drill; how many women does he bring to this room?
“Yes, I’ll have a margarita and a tequila shot, please.”
She smirks.