The restaurant was packed full, but she had been directed to go to a small room in the back. She pushed open a creaky wooden door and, clutching the package, stepped into what seemed to be an empty room. There were half a dozen tables in there, all set with red and white checked plastic table clothes and lit by flickering votive candles. As she stepped into the room, someone shut the door, and when she spun around to see who it was, she bumped right into Dominic. He was wearing a pinstriped suit and a pale blue silk shirt that made his eyes look even more beautiful, and he was in between her and the door now.
“You,” she said, clutching the package to her chest and taking a quick two steps back. “What a surprise.”
He pretended to look hurt. “Is that any way to great your mate after a hard day’s work?”
“No,” she said flatly. “That is definitely not how I’d greet my mate. Or husband, as we human-types say.”
Amusement sparked in his beautiful blue eyes. “Sassy. Don’t you want to know what’s in the package? It’s for you.”
“For me?” she said, startled.
“Open it!”
She was tempted to say something snarky, but the look on his face was so expectant and hopeful, she just couldn’t.
“Thank you,” she said grudgingly, tearing at the wrapping. Then she hesitated. “Is this some kind of trap? It’s not handcuffs, is it?”
“No, I keep those in my bedroom. Along with some other toys.”
Damn it. Now why did he have to go and say that? Her heartbeat sped up and she felt damp in her girly parts.
He sniffed the air appreciatively. “You like handcuffs,” he stated. He nodded approvingly. “Good to know.”
“Stop…stop doing that!” she sputtered, blushing so hard her face hurt. But she also really loved getting presents, and she hardly ever got them these days, so she ripped open the package and something spilled out in a river of glorious green silk. Her favorite color. She held it up. It was a stunning evening gown.
“For you,” he said. “You can change in the restroom. Or right here. Preferably right here. You’re having dinner with me.”
She was about to lie and say that she wasn’t hungry, but her treacherous stomach growled. She clapped her hand over it, as if that would help.
“What about my bike?”
“I’ll have it brought inside and Sergio will keep it in the back for you.”
“Promise you’ll let me go afterwards?”
“If you want to go, you can go.”
She snorted. “I’m holding you to that.” Right. She could talk tough, but if he wanted to drag her back to his lair, it wasn’t as if she could actually do anything about it.
She went into the bathroom and pulled out her phone and used the app that notified her boss that she’d delivered her package and was off for the night.
Then she stripped off her sweaty jeans and t-shirt, and slid the dress on. Then she realized that she didn’t have shoes to go with the dress, so she was wearing a gorgeous dress with big clunky sneakers.
But she was also so hungry she could eat a hippo. So she threw her shoulders back and strode out of the bathroom, trying to fake a confidence that she didn’t feel at all.
“Are you sure I look…okay?” she asked, gesturing at the dress awkwardly.
He looked her up and down.
“Okay? No. Not at all.” He shook his head. “Not okay.”
Zoey felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She hadn’t realized how much she cared about Dominic’s opinion until he said those cruel words. And she realized that she’d foolishly started to trust him in a way – she thought he’d never hurt her feelings.
The next thing she knew, her back was up against the wall, and Dominic was pressed up against her. The thick length of his erection pressed into her stomach, and he was breathing hard.
“Okay?” he repeated. “You never look justokay. You look good enough to fucking eat. And believe me, that’s going to happen in a very short time. Dinner, dessert, you. Possibly in that order.”
“Me?” she squeaked. “But I…my hair’s a mess, my face is sunburned…”
