I’m stunned.
I’m unprepared for that pantie-melting side of King Kong Tycoon. “You’re buttering me up again, König?”
He slides a hand to my lower back, a move that sets my pulse racing.
Good God.
“No, kitty cat, I’m telling it like it is. You have the kind of undeniable beauty that could start a war between men.”
My ovaries just exploded.
“Here we are, Mr. König,” the maître d’hôtel says.
“This is perfect,” Phoenix says before pulling out a chair for me.
“Thank you.” I lower myself to the seat and place my clutch on the table.
Phoenix unbuttons his suit jacket and sits across from me.
I glance furtively around us.
Our table for two is tucked into the corner of the restaurant and offers an enviable view of the room. It’s a great vantage point, but it also means there’s nowhere to hide. The bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket sends a clear message.
Showtime.
“Should I pour the champagne, sir?” The maître points to the bottle.
Phoenix’s eyes drop to it before locking onto me. “I assume this is okay?”
“Champagne is more than okay,” I say. “Especially, when it’s Krug’s Grande Cuve´e.”
When we’re short staffed at the Villiers Grand’s restaurant, I cover for the wait staff. We carry an assortment of expensive champagne, so I know how much this bottle cost.
“Nothing is too good for my girl,” Phoenix says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
It’s with great effort I don’t roll my eyes.
I channel my inner starlet. “Baby, you take such good care of me. How did I ever get to be this lucky?” I’m not one to be upstaged.
He chuckles.
The maître d’ pops the cork. For some strange reason, I’m tempted to shoutOpa!, but I refrain.
“I’ll send your waiter over,” he says, pouring the champagne in our flutes before submerging the bottle in the bucket of ice.
“It’s been a long week for both of us,” Phoenix says. “Let’s start with the platter of antipasto.”
Whoa.
I’m careful not to let on how surprised I am by his selection, considering he doesn’t know my food preferences yet.
“We’ll order our main dishes later,” he says. He moves his attention to me. “Are you okay with that,sweetheart?”
Game. On.“Baby, you know I’ll never refuse a charcuterie platter.”
“Should we opt for an extra platter of cheese?”
“Absolutely.” I nod. I peer up at the maître d’. “Personally, I think cheese should be a food group,” I say with feigned seriousness.
