“I do,” he confirms. “I love you.”
My mouth dries as both excitement and nerves dance in my belly. I brave a glance at him. He’s watching me, awaiting my reaction. A shy smile spreads across my face.
As much as I’ve tried to squash the idea, the one where I could be happy again and believe any relationship could last long enough to be truly settled with someone, these past months have shown me that I can love again. And as hard as it is, I need to step off the ledge and take the chance. I deserve it.
“I’m falling in love with you too,” I murmur. “I never thought something like this would happen to me again.”
“Shall we go celebrate then?” he asks, taking my hands in his. “Celebrate that love has found us both when we needed it?” His face lowers to mine, and I shoot my hand between us. His lips connect with my palm.
“You’re not ruining my lipstick again,” I grumble. “I love you, but you can keep your kisses until later.” He chuckles then moves swiftly to kiss my cheek.
“I plan to kiss every bloody square inch of you, sweetheart.”
A huge golden sign hangs above cream archways displaying the name,Revere.Each opening is glazed, and I can see straight into the opulent restaurant beyond. The room is filled with small round tables that seat two people, each one laid with white linen and sparkling silver cutlery. Ivan holds my hand as we climb the marble steps toward the front door.
We walk into a foyer with a domed ceiling and an exquisite chandelier hanging at its center. A woman stands behind a long dark-wood counter, her appearance pristine, not a hair out of place.
“Good evening, Mr. Harley,” she says. “Your dining room is ready. Please follow me.”
At the top of the private staircase, she pushes open a heavy wooden door.
“Ladies first,” Ivan says, gesturing for me to lead the way.
I step into a small room?it’s more like a box. Three sides are glass. A table, set for two in the center, holds a huge bouquet of red roses surrounded by fine china and silverware.
As I move forward, the rest of the restaurant comes into view through the glass. Table after table of people enjoying their meals. We have a bird's-eye view of the whole place.
“This is incredible,” I murmur almost to myself.
“One of the hottest tickets in town,” he agrees. “They have the most amazing tasting menu for us to enjoy. I wanted you to experience it, but didn’t want to have to share you with anyone else this evening.” I turn to him, and he smiles half-unsure. “Is it all right?”
“All right?” I repeat. “Ivan, this is astonishing. I’ve never seen anywhere like it. It’s perfect.”
A waiter arrives with two flutes of champagne. Ivan takes them both and passes one to me. He raises his glass and clinks it with mine.
“To being in love,” he toasts. “To finding the person you need in the world.”
His words hit square in my chest. Steady, certain like his hand on my lower back as we climbed the plane stairs in Thailand. He means every damn word. I believe him.
We take our seats, and soon, the first course is placed in front of us. With every delicious plate, my wine glass is filled with a corresponding wine. By the end of the evening, I’m flushed and incredibly tipsy.
While listening to Ivan talk about his business and plans, I rest my elbow on the table, laying my head on my palm.
With my head cocked to one side, I watch his lips move as he speaks. His voice transforms into a soothing, melodic rhythm. Those lips and the pleasure they bring, still fresh in my memory, make me smirk.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, startling me.
“I was wondering how many hours your lips have been on my skin.” His eyes darken, and he adjusts himself in his seat. “I couldn’t decide if they’ve been on my pussy or sucking my nipples more. Both have enjoyed plenty of attention. Perhaps we need to start tracking the time spent on each area to ensure fair representation.”
“That would take a lot of research to ensure it was a decent experiment,” he replies. “Both areas are appealing, though I believe my natural instinct is to bury myself between your legs. I plan to do so later if you’ll allow me. But I’m unsure if this evening has met your expectations.”
“This evening has surpassed any expectations I’ve ever had. It’s been magical. Shall we go home and continue our research?”
“That sounds agreeable.”
He rises, moving to pull out my chair. The waiter appears once more, holding our coats. How did he know we were leaving? He must have been listening to our conversation.
Ivan takes mine from him and slips it over my shoulders. “Come on,” he says.
