“Cheeky, kitten. Very cheeky,” I muse, savoring the sight of her gorgeous smile.
I sit on the chair opposite her and set my feet on the coffee table. “Did you have any plans tonight?” I ask with one corner of my lips curved upward. She looks at me and rolls her eyes. “Oh yes, I was thinking about popping over to Paris for dinner. No, I don’t have plans. What plans would I possibly have?” she huffs in annoyance. “I planned to read,” she shrugs.
“Well, it’s a bit late to leave for Paris now. We can do that tomorrow, maybe, but I could take you to a French restaurant?” I grin.
She looks up at me with surprise. “You want to take me out?” she asks.
“Yes, I’m getting bored with eating at home. I’m sure you are too. Let’s go out?”
“That sounds amazing. When?” she asks, already setting the book down as though she’s ready to rush out the door. I glance at my watch. It’s only four in the afternoon.
“Early dinner?” I chuckle.
“Now?” she says, lighting up.
“Sure,” I nod.
She’s already rushing out of the library before I can say another word. I guess I should go and get ready too.
The restaurant is always booked months in advance, no matter what day or time you want to go. But there are perks to being one of the richest men in the city, and to having as many connections as I do.
I make one call, and they confirm my reservation is ready and waiting for my arrival in a few minutes. I thank the host andslide the phone back in my pocket, looking up just in time to see Athena walking down the stairs toward me. Her hair is pinned up in a high bun with loose curls around her face.
She is wearing a long gold dress. The body of the dress is soft silk that flows around her in liquid smoothness. The sleeves and high neck are lace with the lace continuing down her chest in a deep V that reaches her navel.
There is a long slit up one side of the dress, almost reaching her hip, and I find myself wondering if she’s wearing underwear.
“Is this too much?” she asks nervously.
“This is… exquisite,” I murmur at a complete loss for words.
“And this?” she asks, pulling the dress up a little and looking down at her feet.
I burst out laughing when I see her sneakers.
“Those are perfect too,” I reply, unable to stop the laughter. “I think we need to take you shopping for some boots, though. Winter isn’t going anywhere any time soon,” I say thoughtfully.
She picks up the jacket she’s left hanging over the railing of the stairs. I take it from her and help her into it. She turns her back to me, and I brush against the silk of her dress, and my mind screams at me to slide my hand over her waist. But I can’t.
Instead, I lean close to her ear and whisper, “You look like Athena herself. As though the Greek Goddess has somehow found herself standing in my home,” I muse.
Unconsciously, she tilts her head to the side, exposing her neck to me, and I am tempted to run my lips over her warm skin.
But then she moves away and smiles, “Thank you. I do rather love this dress. I’ve never worn something so beautiful.”
“It’s not the dress that is stealing the show, Athena,” I grin, offering her my hand.
***
The restaurant is busy but not uncomfortably crowded. The chef is a well-known Frenchman who has won numerous awards for his culinary skills.
Athena stares at the menu, embarrassed.
“Is everything ok?” I ask when I see her gnawing at her lip with her eyes nervously darting over the options.
“I, um, don’t really know what most of this is,” she whispers as quietly as she can.
I chuckle softly. “Is there any specific food you don’t like to eat?” I ask.
