“Do you want a tour?” Dimitri asked. His eyes followed the movements of her tongue as she licked molten chocolate off a spoon.
Yeah, she was still wired up after the burlesque show, and she was teasing him. Sitting on his lap with his hardness pressing against her through their clothes had been the sweetest torture. Every time she’d shifted her weight, grinding her ass against him, had been intentional, and there was a good chance he knew it.
“I’d love a tour. Unlike your house, I’ve never actually been here before.”
He pressed a hand to his chest and whistled. “Ouch. Direct hit.”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re not.” He got to his feet and held out a hand for her. Before spraining her ankle, it was something that would have driven her crazy. But the fact that he offered assistance now, every single time she got up from a chair or exited the car . . . well, his attentiveness didn’t annoy her, that was for sure. “Considerate” wasn’t a word she would have previously associated with Dimitri, but here he was, anticipating her every whim and need.
If she wasn’t careful, she’d get used to it. She took his hand and let him lead her through the door marked “Employees Only.”
“This better not be a ploy to bend me over your desk and play out some kind of boss-and-employee fantasy.”
He bit back a laugh. “Don’t give me any ideas.”
He took her through the kitchen, introducing her to the sous-chef and the cooks. A number of them spoke Spanish, and she chatted with them about the menu, praising the dishes she’d tried. Even though she was full, she tried the dishes they pressed on her, because it would have been rude not to, and also stupid. Only an idiot would turn down a behind-the-scenes tasting at one of LA’s hottest restaurants.
The waitresses asked her dozens of questions about working onThe Dance Off.Apparently, Dimitri refused to talk about the show with them, and they were hungry for gossip.
Carlito joined the tour, his pride for the restaurant clear in the way he spoke about it, and his admiration for Dimitri’s restaurateur skills hidden in underlying tones.
As they were finally leaving, Carlito reiterated his earlier message once again: Dimitri had never brought another woman toKrasavitsa.
“Eres una dama especial,”he added with a knowing smile. Natasha mulled over his words as baby-faced Raul brought them the car, and came to one conclusion.
Maybe this was real.
Dimitri had brought her to the restaurant. And if Carlito was to be believed, he’d never brought another woman there.
He’d gone with her to Babe Planet, seen what it was like, and didn’t judge her for her choices when so many people would. Even more, he’d stood up for her, then stepped back to let her deal with the problem herself. Then he’dapologizedfor bringing her there, like it was his fault. Like she hadn’t gone there of her own volition, five days a week for three months.
And then the restaurant. The smiles from the staff. The way they teased Dimitri and couldn’t stop watching them.
As far as first dates went, it was pretty perfect. But it wasn’t a date. They couldn’t date, because if they did . . .
She didn’t want to picture Donna’s reaction. The cold smile, the flat eyes. Donna would start with an apology, but she’d be eating it up, thriving on the drama. Or, worse, she’d hold it over Natasha’s head, using it as leverage to twist Natasha’s storylines, like she did to Gina a few months earlier.
Or—shit—what if they didn’t fire her, but knocked her down to backup dancer? She’d bypassed it before, because she’d proven her skills onEverybody Dance Now.The backup dancers were fresh-faced hopefuls, happy to be on TV but aching for the chance to be pro partners. They danced during group numbers and commercial breaks, but got paid less and didn’t receive much press or attention. It would also look terrible to future job prospects. So terrible, she’d probably have to quit to save face.
God, this was a nightmare.
She should leave now. Pack her things, go crash on Lori’s couch. Find a hotel. Or just give up and put the last of her money into a one-way plane ticket to New York.
But as she looked over at Dimitri, she couldn’t do it. Even if what was growing between them was impossible, she couldn’t deny thatsomethingwas there. At the very least, she deserved to indulge it tonight, if only to quiet the stupid hope clamoring inside.
What was one more mistake? She’d already made so many.
“What are you thinking about so hard over there,Kroshka?”
Taking a deep breath, she decided to tell him the truth.
34
Dimitri glanced over at her. The freeway lights skittered over Natasha’s face, casting her in bands of light and shadow. She looked as mysterious as ever, but there was a tiny crease between her brows.
At his question, she cut her eyes over to him and gave him a slow, sexy smile. “How lucky you’re going to get when we’re home.”
