My mouth fell open as I ran down the steps in the blue chiffon dress I’d ultimately chosen.
Jonah stepped out of the car, his gaze traveling over me slowly. His mouth curved into an appreciative smile.
“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice warm with genuine admiration.
“Thank you for the dresses,” I said as I stepped closer, letting him brush his lips against my cheek. “They’re gorgeous. But don’t get any ideas that I’ll always be this obliging when you want to choose my outfit.”
He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it slowly, the gentle touch sending shivers down my arms. “I love this color on you,” he murmured, pulling me closer to meet my eyes. “It matches your blue eyes perfectly.”
Those unexpectedly sweet words melted my defenses more than I’d anticipated.
“You’re forgiven,” I said with a grin, trailing a finger over his lips, “for being such an overbearing prick.”
His arm tightened around my waist in response, genuine shock flickering across his features.
“Still not used to people calling you names?” I asked as he released me and opened the car door.
“I’m getting there,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Though I prefer it when you’re the one saying it.”
“Well, you’ll have to forgive my vocabulary,” I said with another laugh as I finally slid into the back seat with him. “I don’t talk to other adults much.”
“Do you mean you’re an introvert? I find that hard to believe.” He grinned.
I didn’t correct him. This was just one night, and there was no need to let him know I was a single-mother. There couldn’t be more to this attraction than our primal desires. I’d allow myself this one last night of sex … with a man I knew and thoroughly desired … before putting a stop to whatever this was becoming.
Within half an hour,we arrived at a Michelin-starred French restaurant in Manhattan with a six-month waiting list, Jonah informed me with obvious pride at securing us a table.
As the hostess led us inside, Jonah suddenly stopped in front of a photograph on the wall. It showed an older man, probably in his seventies, standing beside a younger man who appeared to be his son. Jonah’s entire demeanor shifted.
“Is that Alex Montluke?” he asked the hostess in disbelief.
She brightened. “He’s a part-owner of our restaurant, actually. Mr. Montluke and his father dine here together often.”
Something that looked like jealousy flickered across Jonah’s features before he quickly masked it as the hostess led us to a private table at the back of the restaurant.
What was that about? Did he have some kind of beef with Alex or his father? I made a mental note to ask him about that photograph later.
“How do you like this place?” he asked once we were seated, his composure fully restored as I studied the menu card.
“It’s fancy,” I said, glancing around at the upscale restaurant that made me feel distinctly out of place.
He raised one eyebrow. “You’re the first woman I’ve brought here who doesn’t seem thrilled by that.”
I met his gaze directly. “The man I met at the bar wasn’t interested in impressing anyone with fancy restaurants. I was hoping for somewhere small, intimate, and cozy.”
He reached across the table and took my hand in his. “There’ll be plenty of time for cozy later,” he said with a meaningful look as our waiter approached.
After we’d ordered, I took a closer look at Jonah. Something had shifted in his behavior since we’d sat down. The way he looked at me now, with genuine curiosity, reminded me of the man I’d met that first night. The one I’d desperately wanted to see again.
“So, you were working late tonight?” he asked, genuine interest in his voice.
I felt heat creep up my neck. Why did he care about my work habits?
“I wanted to finish some code tests so I could analyze the results over the weekend. It gets quiet after four when everyone leaves, and I work better in the silence.”
“Why was everyone leaving at four?” His frown deepened.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, besides the fact that it’s Friday, there was a happy hour at the bar down the street. Most of the team decided to go.”
