Chapter 7

Kaitlin

The Escalade glides smoothly through the city streets, my thoughts racing in different directions. I clutch my purse on my lap, taking steady breaths to calm my nerves. I can't help but wonder why he came looking for me. When the car finally pulls up in front of the restaurant, I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest.

The restaurant is a grand, imposing structure with tall glass windows that reflect the city lights. The name, "La Belle étoile," is elegantly displayed in gold script above the entrance. I've only ever admired this place from the outside and never dreamed I would one day eat here.

The driver comes to open the car door, and I step out, smoothing down my dress. As I approach the entrance, the soft strains of classical music drift through the air. My breath catches in my throat when I step inside. The inside of the restaurant is even more breathtaking.

Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. Rich, dark wood paneling and intricate moldings adorn the walls. To my surprise, the restaurant is empty, save for one table, set for two. He's sitting there, his eyes fixed on me as I walk in. The intensity of his gaze makes my pulse quicken.

He rises as I approach, his expression unreadable. Dressed in a tailored black suit, he exudes an air of power and control. His dark eyes lock onto mine, and I feel a shiver run down my spine.

"Good evening, Cleopatra ," he says, his voice smooth and deep. He pulls out a chair for me, and I take a seat, my hands trembling slightly.

"Good evening," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

He sits across from me, his eyes never leaving mine. I look away, reaching for a glass of water, and take a tiny sip as my throat suddenly feels dry. I feel the heat of his gaze on my skin; it feels like warm honey.

"You look stunning," he says, breaking the silence.

"Thank you," I manage to say, my cheeks flushing at the compliment.

He gestures to the waiter, who appears almost instantly, pouring us each a glass of champagne. The bubbles dance in the crystal flute, and I take a sip, the cool liquid calming my nerves.

"Thanks for the dress," I say, managing to sound normal. My fingers brush against the silky fabric. He acknowledges my statement with a nod. Reaching for his drink, he takes a sip, his eyes not leaving me.

"I'm a little curious," I say now, feeling a little emboldened by the champagne.

"What about?" he asks, his interest piqued.

"Why did you come looking for me? My boss told me the length you went to, to find me." I take another sip of my drink.

He doesn't respond immediately; he just stares at me, a small smile now playing on his lips. He looks even more handsome when he smiles.

"Why did you come looking for me?"

"Curiosity," he finally says.

"About what exactly?" I ask.

"Why did you run off the way you did? I was gone for a minute, and the next minute, you were gone without a trace, well, except for your mask, of course."

"So, you came looking for me and asked me to dinner just so you can know why I left?"

He shrugs in response.

"And when I was told you wanted me to accompany you to dinner, I thought we were going to a dinner event or something and not a date."

He shakes his head. "This isn't a date; don't get ideas in your head, Cleopatra." His voice is calm, but I don't miss the warning in his tone.

But it doesn't deter me. "So, what do you call this?" I ask, my eyes moving around the empty restaurant. "You got this place for the two of us just so you could satisfy your curiosity about why I left?"

He leans back in his chair and brings his hand to his face, two fingers on his chin. My mind quickly flashes back to how those fingers felt inside me. Making my body tingle with warmth. "I don't like crowds," he supplies.

"My boss says your name is Luca, but I have a feeling that isn't your real name."

"Leonardo," he says, leaning back in his seat. I know he already knows my name, so I don't offer.

The waiter appears with our entrée, chili-smoked salmon cob dip. I look down at my food, trying to enjoy it as I take a piece. We eat our dinner in silence until the waiter brings the dessert.

"So why did you run?" he asks, causing me to look up.

I try to act nonchalant. "I didn't see the reason to wait; we were done."

"And the party?"

"I left early," I say with a shrug.

He studies me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "You intrigue me, Kaitlin."

"Why?" I ask, curious.

He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing mine. The contact sends a shiver up my spine. He picks up a chocolate-coated strawberry from the dessert plate, dips it in his champagne, and brings it to my lips.

"Open," he says softly.

I part my lips, allowing him to feed me the champagne-soaked strawberry. The sweetness bursts in my mouth, mingling with the sharp taste of champagne. His fingers linger on my lips, and without thinking, I close my mouth around them, licking the remnants of the fruit from his skin. His eyes darken as he watches me.

When his fingers leave my mouth, he brings them to my face, brushing against my skin. His touch sends electric feelings through my whole body, and my resolve weakens.

I can't take it anymore. I need to get a grip. "Excuse me, I need to go to the powder room," I say, my voice shaky.

He nods, his eyes still locked on mine. I push my chair back and walk away, my legs trembling. I feel his gaze on me as I make my way to the powder room, my heart pounding.

When I return, he's already on his feet, waiting for me. "Dinner is over," he says, his voice soft but firm. "But I would love to spend more time with you. Not as my escort, but just as company."

Without thinking, I say, "Yes."

He takes my hand, leading me outside. I'm surprised to see a different car waiting for us—a sleek, black sedan. He opens the door for me, and I slide inside, the leather seats cool against my skin.

Once we're both inside, he raises the partition, separating us from the driver. The car starts moving, the city lights blurring outside the tinted windows. He turns to me, his eyes dark with desire. "Come here," he says softly.

I lean toward him, my heart racing. His hand slides inside my dress, his fingers slipping inside me. I gasp, my body responding instantly to his touch. His other hand cups my face, his thumb brushing my lips. "You're mine tonight," he whispers, his breath hot against my skin.

I close my eyes, surrendering to the sensations coursing through me, the boundaries between us dissolving in the heat of the moment.