She grinned wickedly. “I bet you can guess.”
“Jesus. Seriously?”
She took his arm again and urged him toward the door. “As serious as a heart attack, honey.”
“Which is what you’re going to give me if I have to sit through dinner imagining you across the table without anything under your skirt.”
She laughed. “It was your idea.”
For which he could kick himself right now. He smiled. Later, however, it would certainly make things interesting.
They reached the door to the garage. When he opened it, a low light came on, dimly illuminating the interior.
“You have the cleanest garage I’ve ever seen,” she said. “Not a spec of dirt on the floor, not a trace of oil or gasoline. How many times a week does somebody clean it?”
“My handyman washes the cars and keeps the garage clean. Vehicles like these deserve to be treated with care.”
She laughed. “That’s right, you think they’re human. I forgot. So where are we going for dinner?”
He pressed a button and the doors on the Lambo began to slide up. “A place called Antoine’s. It’s a little ways out of town, but the food’s worth the drive.”
He helped her settle into the car, her dress riding up justinches from a glimpse of heaven. Inwardly he groaned. At this rate, it was going to be the longest evening of his life.
Beau backed the sports car out of the garage, drove down the driveway and turned onto the street, heading for the little French restaurant owned by a friend.
Antoine De la Croix ran one of the best restaurants in the Dallas area. Antoine’s was intimate, with only fifteen tables, white linen tablecloths and fresh flowers on each one.
“It’s lovely,” Cassidy said as he guided her through the door. Pale amber lighting lent a soft glow to the dining room, and French music played softly in the background.
“Beaumont,mon ami!” Antoine, a big, burly, bearded Frenchman, was a racing fan. Beau couldn’t remember exactly how they had met, but it had something to do with the classic Bugatti that was Antoine’s pride and joy.
He clapped Beau hard on the shoulder. “It is good to see you, my friend. It has been far too long.”
“Yes, it has,” Beau agreed. He didn’t come here often. It was a place he brought only his closest friends. It occurred to him he had only brought one other woman, a lady stockbroker he had dated, a woman he still admired and respected.
“Antoine, I’d like you to meet my friend Cassidy Jones.”
Antoine, in his usual overblown manner, took her hand and kissed the back. “Such a beautiful woman. It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jones. My friend’s taste in women is as excellent as his taste in automobiles. Come. I have saved for you the best table in the house.”
He led them to a quiet corner. Beau seated Cassidy, then took a seat across from her.
The big Frenchman beamed. “Perhaps you should let Antoine make the selections tonight so that you will not be disturbed. I promise, my friends, you will not be disappointed.”
Beau looked at Cassidy, who smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”
“You heard the lady,” Beau said. “Looks like tonight it’s up to you.”
Antoine shot him a devilish grin, then turned to one of the waiters and snapped his fingers. “Champagne! The best in the house for my friend and his lady!”
Antoine strode off and Beau smiled at Cassidy. “He can be a little overdramatic, but he’s a good guy, and his chef is one of the best in Dallas.”
“I’m looking forward to his selections.” She tossed him a glance from beneath her thick lashes. “I just hope they won’t be too filling.”
Beau silently groaned. There was no mistaking her meaning or the challenge in those big green eyes. “Youaretrying to kill me.”
“Not at the moment.” She grinned. “I can’t promise what might happen later.”
He felt like tossing down his napkin and dragging her out of there right now. Instead, he forced himself to smile. “If you don’t behave, this is going to be the shortest dinner in history.”
