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“Can I get you another?” he asked.
“I better not.” I pushed the flute to the edge of the bar. “I can’t promise it won’t end up on your shoes.”
“Those are a lost cause.” His deep, gruff laugh suited him. “I’d like to pick up where we left off.”
“You’re not too busy?” When I bit the corner of my lip, his gaze dropped to my mouth. “You’re popular.”
“I’m not too busy for you.” He leaned closer to me. “I’m disappointed you rejected my invitation to join me at my table. I couldn’t focus on dinner.”
“Are you not used to disappointment?”
“I’ll be honest.” When he rested his hand on the bar our fingers touched, sending a burst of heat soaring through me. “I make sure I’m never disappointed.”
“Share your methods.”
“I’m in control, I don’t take no for an answer, and…” He trailed his pinky across mine. “I always get what I want.”
“What do you want?” I gazed into his eyes, fighting the urge to rip his mask off so I could see all of his face. “I mean…” What the hell am I doing? “You must be pretty successful at whatever it is you do.”
“I’ll answer your question.”
“Okay.” I gripped the ends of my hair, trying to center myself so I didn’t tumble off the barstool and land on my ass. “If you could have anything right now, what would it be?”
He threaded his fingers through mine so both of our hands were tangled in my hair. No man had ever been this intrusive with me, but I didn’t find it offensive. I found the attention foreign…arousing.
“Your name,” he said.
“What?” I didn’t expect that to be his answer. But I had little to no experience with men, so I shouldn’t have expected anything.
“You asked me what I wanted.”
“I know but…” I guided his hand out of my hair, but he didn’t stop touching me. He traced his fingers along my collarbone and across my throat. Still not offended. “I thought you were going to say something else.”
“Like what?”
“Nothing.” I laughed, trying to disguise my disillusion over the fact that I thought he wanted me. “I don’t want to tell you my name.”
“Why not?”
“Because you should be disappointed every once in a while.” I removed his hand from my shoulder. “It builds character.”
“I can assure you, I have an extremely strong character, and I can just give you a new name.” He twirled his finger around the ends of my hair. “I’m going to call you Forest.”
“Why?”
“It’s the color of your vintage dress.” His gaze traveled down my body, stopping to take in the high slit that almost revealed the side of my panties. “By the way, I really do think it’s the most unique gown here.”
“You do?”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it, Forest.” He tugged on my hair. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I had been anxious I would look absurd in a thirteen-dollar dress when everyone else was wearing thousand-dollar gowns. “You’re not disappointed I won’t tell you my name?”
“I renamed you.” He smiled. “I got what I wanted.”
“Because you’re in control.” Well played.
“Exactly.”
