I shook my head once. "Booth."
She blinked, thrown off-balance, then scrambled to recover. "Of course! Right this way?—"
She led us to a corner booth tucked against the far wall, half-moon seating upholstered in dark leather that curved around a table built for intimacy rather than conversation. Belle moved to slide into the booth across from me—putting the table between us like a barrier, like safety.
I caught her wrist.
Her pulse jumped beneath my fingers.
"Next to me."
Her eyes flashed, defiance sparking hot and immediate. "No."
I raised one eyebrow, waiting.
She recognized the look. Knew what it meant when I went quiet instead of loud, when I stopped commanding and started simply expecting obedience.
Her jaw clenched hard enough I heard her teeth grind together, but she slid into the booth beside me anyway, leaving a careful few inches of space between our bodies.
I didn't allow it.
My arm draped across the back of the booth, casual and claiming, and I hooked one fingertip into the belt loop at her waist—subtle pressure that pulled her closer until her thigh pressed against mine and her shoulder fit perfectly beneath my arm.
She stiffened.
Beautifully.
I smirked.
The hostess hovered, flustered and pink-cheeked, clutching menus against her chest like a shield. "Your server will be right with you. Can I get you anything while you wait?"
"Water," I said without looking at her. "For both of us."
She scurried away.
Belle turned her head just enough to glare at me, trapped between my body and the wall with nowhere to run. "I can order my own water."
"I know."
"Then why?—"
"Because I wanted to."
The server arrived with two glasses of water, setting them down with careful precision before straightening and fixing her attention squarely on me. Young. Blonde. Pretty in the way servers at expensive restaurants always were—polished, poised, smiling with teeth.
"Welcome," she purred, letting her gaze linger just a fraction too long. "I'm Sarah. I'll be taking care of you today."
Belle shifted beside me, her thigh pressing harder against mine.
I noticed.
Sarah leaned forward slightly, pen poised over her notepad, angling her body so her neckline dipped lower. "Can I start you off with any appetizers? Maybe something from the bar?"
"No," I said flatly.
Her smile wavered but held. "All right, well, take your time looking over the menu and?—"
"We're ready to order."
