too sure my translation is correct, but I suspect she just called me beautiful. I think I like this place, I decide as he seats me and orders a bottle of red wine.
“I hope you don’t mind my presumption. This specific wine is fantastic and I wanted you to try it.”
“No, it’s fine. I like anything made from grapes with a vintage stamp on it.”
See, I can loosen up.
“So, Hannah Newman,” he muses after the wine is delivered and we order our starters. “Tell me why a beautiful woman like yourself is single.”
“Because I’m intelligent?”
A laugh booms out and he tempers it with difficulty, letting me know he enjoys my sharp tongue.
“Touché. But I think there’s a story here.”
“If you want a story, Gregory Lucas, you should read more.”
“Tsk tsk, and here I pegged you for a romantic.”
Me? I am possibly the most opposite to romantic kind of woman alive today.
“Nope. Certified realist here. Sorry to disappoint.”
He sits back, sipping at his wine and watching me as I sip at mine. He’s right, it really is quite lovely. I don’t know much about wine but how to uncork and pour, but I can tell this one is an expensive one.
“I’m not disappointed, just curious now,” he says, and I think it pleases him that I’m not into happily-ever-afters or declarations of undying love.
“You know what curiosity did,” I quip, chuckling slightly at his expression.
The man has big predatory animal down to an art. If I let him, I know Gregory Lucas will eat me up and spit me out.
“Ah, darlin’, but I’m not a pussy cat, am I?”
No, this man is more a lion or vicious tiger than the tame tabbies most men today are.
“No, you’re not. But I’m still not interested in telling you my life story, either,” I say in a hard tone that brooks no argument.
What has happened in my past is my business and none of his. Besides, as far as I’m concerned, the less we talk the better. I’m not interested in being wooed by a player like him. I want honesty, value honesty, and if he insists on playing this game I’d sooner walk out than keep up the banter.
His eyes darken before a genuine smile curves his lips, and I stifle a gasp at the pure beauty. Men aren’t supposed to be beautiful, but at this moment he is perhaps the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld.
Trouble. This seductive, testy man is most definitely trouble.
“That’s fine by me, Hannah darlin’, as long as your future includes me.”
The food arrives, and by the time the waiter has left it’s too late to correct his assumption that he has any place in my future.
“Eat up, darlin’, you’re going to need your strength.”
I dig in, ignoring his belief that we will end up in bed together before the night is over. Oh, I fully intend to get there now that I’ve made up my mind to engage in a brief sexual affair with him. It just won’t be tonight.
I want him, yes, with a ferocious need that’s blindsided me, but I’m no light skirt, and if he thinks s few seductively phrased lines and a delicious dinner are enough for me to give up the goods, he’s got another thing coming.
I also won’t allow things to progress on his terms. If Gregory Lucas wants me enough, he’ll play by my rules, or he can get packing.
Chapter Six
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with a nightcap?”
We’ve enjoyed a lovely dinner and some surprisingly good conversation. This surprises me because I’d assumed we wouldn’t have much in common besides the ad campaign. How wrong I was. Gregory Lucas and I share quite a few things in common.
We both like ‘eighties power ballads, something very few modern heterosexual men will admit to, and we love the ocean and want whalers across the globe to die an unholy painful death.
I’ve truly enjoyed tonight and want nothing more than for it to keep going to its natural conclusion. I want to invite him up and take him into my small room with its white sheets and see him stretched
“I hope you don’t mind my presumption. This specific wine is fantastic and I wanted you to try it.”
“No, it’s fine. I like anything made from grapes with a vintage stamp on it.”
See, I can loosen up.
“So, Hannah Newman,” he muses after the wine is delivered and we order our starters. “Tell me why a beautiful woman like yourself is single.”
“Because I’m intelligent?”
A laugh booms out and he tempers it with difficulty, letting me know he enjoys my sharp tongue.
“Touché. But I think there’s a story here.”
“If you want a story, Gregory Lucas, you should read more.”
“Tsk tsk, and here I pegged you for a romantic.”
Me? I am possibly the most opposite to romantic kind of woman alive today.
“Nope. Certified realist here. Sorry to disappoint.”
He sits back, sipping at his wine and watching me as I sip at mine. He’s right, it really is quite lovely. I don’t know much about wine but how to uncork and pour, but I can tell this one is an expensive one.
“I’m not disappointed, just curious now,” he says, and I think it pleases him that I’m not into happily-ever-afters or declarations of undying love.
“You know what curiosity did,” I quip, chuckling slightly at his expression.
The man has big predatory animal down to an art. If I let him, I know Gregory Lucas will eat me up and spit me out.
“Ah, darlin’, but I’m not a pussy cat, am I?”
No, this man is more a lion or vicious tiger than the tame tabbies most men today are.
“No, you’re not. But I’m still not interested in telling you my life story, either,” I say in a hard tone that brooks no argument.
What has happened in my past is my business and none of his. Besides, as far as I’m concerned, the less we talk the better. I’m not interested in being wooed by a player like him. I want honesty, value honesty, and if he insists on playing this game I’d sooner walk out than keep up the banter.
His eyes darken before a genuine smile curves his lips, and I stifle a gasp at the pure beauty. Men aren’t supposed to be beautiful, but at this moment he is perhaps the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld.
Trouble. This seductive, testy man is most definitely trouble.
“That’s fine by me, Hannah darlin’, as long as your future includes me.”
The food arrives, and by the time the waiter has left it’s too late to correct his assumption that he has any place in my future.
“Eat up, darlin’, you’re going to need your strength.”
I dig in, ignoring his belief that we will end up in bed together before the night is over. Oh, I fully intend to get there now that I’ve made up my mind to engage in a brief sexual affair with him. It just won’t be tonight.
I want him, yes, with a ferocious need that’s blindsided me, but I’m no light skirt, and if he thinks s few seductively phrased lines and a delicious dinner are enough for me to give up the goods, he’s got another thing coming.
I also won’t allow things to progress on his terms. If Gregory Lucas wants me enough, he’ll play by my rules, or he can get packing.
Chapter Six
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with a nightcap?”
We’ve enjoyed a lovely dinner and some surprisingly good conversation. This surprises me because I’d assumed we wouldn’t have much in common besides the ad campaign. How wrong I was. Gregory Lucas and I share quite a few things in common.
We both like ‘eighties power ballads, something very few modern heterosexual men will admit to, and we love the ocean and want whalers across the globe to die an unholy painful death.
I’ve truly enjoyed tonight and want nothing more than for it to keep going to its natural conclusion. I want to invite him up and take him into my small room with its white sheets and see him stretched
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