Taken by You (Taken by You Book One) Read Online Free PDF Page B

there be nobody else here?
    “ If you’d follow me, I will be happy to escort you to your table,” one of the women said with a smile.
    “ Thank you,” I replied.
    She began to walk and I followed as we made our way through the labyrinth of tables and chairs. I could hear a violin playing as we walked back to a secluded area of the restaurant filled with enclosed booths that even had curtains to mask the party inside if the patrons should so please.
    “ Hello, Penelope. I’ve been expecting you,” Blake said.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Penelope
     
    Blake, in a fitted black suit that had an almost graphite-like appearance, stood up and greeted me with a smile and a handshake. It was quite a formal introduction, which was good, I thought.
    “ Sorry I’m a little late. The traffic was horrible,” I said, before the hostess walked away.
    “ It’s quite all right. I was just enjoying the music. It’s nice and quiet in here so you can really here the notes being played,” Blake said, as we both sat down.
    The menus were already in front of us on the table, their black leather wraps accented with gold letters. This looked like the kind of place that didn’t put prices on the menu, and it had a really crisp, small font that you needed a magnifying glass to read. I had never been to a place like this before, but I had seen plenty of them on TV.
    “ It’s strange that nobody else is in here. I heard on the radio like two weeks ago that this place is always packed and even their food critic was told he’d have to wait a month before getting in,” I said, opening the menu.
    “ Yes, well, when you have the connections I have it’s quite easy to get whatever you want and need,” he said.
    “ You’re the reason it’s empty?” I asked.
    “ I only wanted the best for your interview. Besides, how would we really get to know one another with a bunch of people running around and interrupting us?” Blake asked.
    I smiled at him before looking back down at my menu and trying to make sense of the names and ingredients. Truffle oil, foie gras, pâté, and headcheese? Where were the fries, burgers, and pasta dishes? It was like I was in a completely different world. Hell, as I looked around, I was in a completely different world.
    Our waitress, Karina, came by and introduced herself before offering us a wine list.
    “ I’m not a big drinker,” I said.
    “ Nonsense. Do you happen to have anything from 1947?” Blake asked.
    “ Yes, we do, sir. A beautiful red from the south of France, if you’re interested,” Karina said.
    “ Sounds excellent. We’ll take the bottle,” Blake said.
    “ Just to let you know, sir, that bottle costs—”
    “ I said we’d take the bottle,” Blake said sternly.
    “ Yes, sir,” Karina said, bowing her head a little and briskly walking off.
    “ I want you to at least have a taste, Penelope. It’s too marvelous of a year to not at least have a taste,” Blake said.
    “ Well, I suppose I could do that,” I said.
    “ Feeling the sweet, sugary nectar of decades past roll across your tongue and down your throat is an absolute marvel of the senses that should be experienced at least once in a lifetime. To do without would be, well, a sheer tragedy of the truest kind,” Blake said.
    “ You sure do have a way with words,” I said.
    “ Just wait until later,” Blake said, before sipping from his glass of ice water.

    The evening wore on and I became more and more comfortable with Blake as the minutes passed. I thought he tried to play himself off as some kind of hardass who didn’t settle for anything less than what he wanted, but I could see something else deep down.
    We hadn’t talked about work much, or the internship, and even though I really wanted it, I couldn’t say that I was all too disappointed. I had finally gotten out of the apartment, and not just with anyone, but an attractive, intelligent, and wildly sexy billionaire. I still wasn’t sure if I were dreaming or actually