I practically salivate at the mention of dessert. “Better make it two. There’s four of us at the table, remember.”
“Very good point.”
He signals, the waiter appears, and the order is sent. In no time at all, two gorgeous lava cakes arrive. I hold my hand over top of it, feeling the heat inside.
“By all means,” he says.
I lick my lips, placing the edge of my spoon on the top of my cake and cleaving through. Dark chocolate pours out onto the plate. I cut off a corner, scooping a little of that decadent, dark molten chocolate up with it, and pop the spoon into my mouth.
It’s heaven. Pure. Freaking. Heaven.
I’m halfway through the thing by the time I finally come to my senses. When I do, I realize Sasha’s watching me. A tinge of embarrassment runs through me.
“Sorry,” I said. “I mean, you’re right about the lava cake. It’s pretty da-”
Before I can finish my sentence, his hand shoots across the table. It lands on mine the way it did before, but this time there’s more urgency. It shuts me up right away.
“Never apologize for enjoying yourself. Never.”
I lick my lips, the taste of cake lingering on them. It’s sweet. Perfect.
“You mind if we get these to-go?”
He grins wolfishly.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
CHAPTER 36
SASHA
I’m at the wheel, driving through downtown. I gave Bogdan the night off—something I do now and then. If I didn’t force him to relax, he’d be posted at my side 24/7.
It’s goddamn hard to focus with Gabriella seated next to me, looking as good as she does. We’d taken the cakes to go, but she and I both know there’s only one dessert she and I are interested in.
The cakes can wait.
The fact of the matter is there’s something else on my mind, something far less fun than what I want to do to her when we’re back at my place.
I’m thinking about telling her the truth.
I’d come so goddamn close the other night, but I hadn’t been able to do it. Peter’s name claws up my throat, like a living thing trying to get out and make itself known.
Peter is your father.
Those four words would change everything.
Everything.
I’m a man who takes pride in my ability to plan, to plot. But even I have not the slightest idea what will happen when she learns the truth.
It’s right there on the edge of my tongue, ready to leap off. I even form the words:Gabriella, there’s something else I need to tell you, something you won’t like.
“You alright over there?” she asks, interrupting my thoughts. “You look like you’re plotting an assassination or something.”
I clear my throat. “Gabriella, there’s something else?—”
I don’t get a chance to finish. Headlights explode through the window—too bright, too close—a black blur of an SUV charging like a bull from the nearby alley. No horn, no hesitation. Gabriella lets out a shriek, and I gun the engine, barely missing the intended T-bone.
