Page 38 of Bred By the Sheikh

His tone was neutral enough to be professional.

My pulse raced anyway.

“No, I don’t.”

“I’d like you to have dinner with me.”

I looked up.

“Is this work?”

“No, it isn’t.”

Well, there went neutral.

I set my fork down.

He didn’t add a justification, a campaign deck, or a pretend reason for putting us together privately.

“Where do you want to go?”

“On the rooftop terrace.”

The rooftop was in the same residence, private and very close to my room.

My skin warmed.

“You’re asking me on a date.”

“I am.”

The corner of my mouth lifted.

“You know, most people usually build up to that part.”

“I kissed you yesterday. I assumed the build-up was sufficient.”

A laugh escaped me.

“That’s annoyingly reasonable.”

“Is that a yes?”

I met his eyes. Like last night, he waited for my answer without crowding me.

“Yes, it is.”

His jaw flexed once.

“I’ll see you at eight.”

“All right.”

He inclined his head and moved away.

I stared after him for exactly one second too long.

Then I picked up my fork.