“Can I ask you something?” I stare across the table at the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. “What makes you tick?”
She leans forward, holding the champagne flute in one hand and looking way more delicious than anything Martin could ever serve. “My family and my business.”
My answer would be the same. But someday, I’d like to have my own family. As the years roll by, I realize I’m not getting any younger, and the need to settle down becomes stronger and more urgent.
I lean across the table and brush a few strands of hair away from her eyes, but my touch lingers. “What brings you pleasure?”
The candlelight flickers across her face as her eyes darken, and she moves into my touch. “Right now, you do,” she admits. “And you?”
“Being with you.”
“We shouldn’t do this,” she whispers.
“Do what? We’re only talking.” I feel absolutely no guilt for how I feel or what we’re doing.
I don’t care about our families, our friends, or any repercussions that could come out of our evening together.
“We’re doing more than talking, Leo,” she says softly, blinking slowly and seducing me even more.
Martin clears his throat, interrupting the moment we were just having. “Can I just say you two make a gorgeous couple? Never have I seen two people more perfect for each other.”
Daphne and I exchange a look over the table before I reply. “Thank you, Martin. We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves. This is our first date.”
Martin sets down the plates he’s been holding. “I’m so sorry. I misspoke. I never would’ve guessed this is your first date.”
“It’s fine.” Daphne smiles easily. “It doesn’t feel like our first date either.”
“Well, enjoy the Oysters Rockefeller. They’re the house specialty and an aphrodisiac.” He winks before leaving us alone again.
She relaxes back into her seat and stares at me across the table. “You’re not what I expected. Not at all.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that good or bad?”
“Well, I figured you were an asshole.”
“Oh.” I laugh. “I am.”
“Not really.”
“No. I really am, but maybe you’re too blinded by your feelings for me to see it.”
Daphne smirks. “Hardly,” she whispers.
* * *
We’re halfway backto Chicago, and I know my time is running out to get her to agree to another date. Even though I asked her for only one, I sure as hell want more.
“I like you, Daphne. I don’t care what your last name is. I don’t care who your father is or who my father is. I don’t care that it’s dangerous to be around you. I don’t care that if your father finds out, he’ll probably end my life before I can blink. All I care about is you. The way your skin feels against mine. The way your breathing changes when I touch you. I want all of it. I’m not ready to walk away without finding out what this is between us.”
“It’s a lot for me to process,” she says, totally not going where I wanted after professing what’s happening in my head.
Daphne’s been staring at me all night. Practically undressing me with her eyes like she did the night I met her. Her lips may have said one thing, but her body has always portrayed the opposite.
The straight line across Daphne’s top lip dips. “Leo,” she whispers and shakes her head as she sits next to me on the plane. “Tonight was nice, but we could never work.”
“Why? Give me one good reason.” I’m being pushy, but nothing is ever gained without being relentless.
“Um.” She laughs softly. “The possibility of one of us dying is a pretty damn good reason, you know?” She shrugs with a crooked smile.
