With a gasp, she glanced up. “What’s this?”
A dainty silver chain sparkled against the blue velvet lining, coming to a V in the center, where a small pendant dangled. “It’s a lock,” she said as nerves took flight in her belly.
“A diamond-covered lock. ’Cause I’m classy that way,” he said with a wink.
“W-what does it mean?”
He took the box from her hands, got to his feet, and came around to stand behind her. “It means that, whenever you wear it, you’re mine.”
Her heart thudded in her chest. She wanted to wear it, and not just because it was a gorgeous piece of jewelry from Tiffany’s. No, there was more. She wanted to be owned, by Mark. Sure, it was just a fantasy, and a fantasy that seemed so very wrong, but she couldn’t help it, and knowing it was temporary somehow made it okay.
Behind her, his hands were warm on her skin as he pulled her hair aside and fastened the necklace. “It’s not a real lock, you know. There’s not a key. You can take it off any time.”
“Well, I guess I can wear it,” she said, lightly stroking the pendant now hanging between her collarbones. “Tonight.”
He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, and then his teeth nipped gently at her cherry blossom tattoo. “Good girl.”
Trying to calm her racing heart, she looked for a menu. “I don’t have a menu. Or any silverware. You’d think in a place like this, they could give a girl a knife and a fork.” God, she sounded like such a dork, but she couldn’t seem to stop babbling.
“You don’t need a knife or a fork, not tonight.”
She looked up to find Mark giving her one of those heart-stopping grins of his. The one that usually meant he was up to something.
“Actually, I do. To, you know. Eat?”
“Trust me.”
She rolled her eyes, wondering what the man had up his sleeve. He seemed to have ordered ahead of time, because a bottle of champagne had been chilled and poured, and then a waiter approached, holding a tray.
“Shrimp cocktail.” The server placed a large glass in front of her. The inside of the glass was filled with red sauce, and five large prawns hugged the rim.
“This looks divine.” She looked up. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
His eyes were dark, unreadable. “I think I’ll just watch you for now.”
Shrugging, she picked up a prawn and dipped it into the cocktail sauce. Then she brought it to her lips and took a large bite. The shrimp flesh was salty, like the sea. The red sauce was perfectly spicy and set off the subtle flavor of the seafood. Blissful. She looked up again and saw that Mark was watching her eat, studying her. She licked a drop of sauce off her lips.
“You missed a spot,” he said, reaching across the table. He dabbed the corner of her mouth with his fingertip, then slowly, gently, ran the pad of his fingertip over her lips.
The entire time he held eye contact with her and didn’t look away. And she didn’t want him to. She wanted to look him in the eye as she sucked his finger, as she’d done the other night. It was insane, how easily he excited her.
“Under My Thumb.” Her mother had always hated that song, said it was degrading to women. And yet she’d been totally infatuated with Ruby’s father, so much so that she would literally follow him to the ends of the earth. Ruby would never be so emotionally dependent on a man. Ever.
“Ruby,” he said, and she snapped out of it.
“What?”
His expression was more serious than she’d ever seen it. “I was kidding earlier, in the car. I’d never ask you to trade sex to get some business deal.”
Something inside her softened as she searched his eyes for pretense. She saw none. “Thank you, Mark. I needed to hear that.”
They fell silent and Mark picked up another shrimp, dipped it into the sauce, and brought it to her lips. She opened her mouth, let him feed her. Let him go as slow as he wanted to. She licked her lips, held his gaze. Soon her nipples were hardening under her bra, and her skin felt hot. Suddenly she wanted to feel his fingers on other parts of her body. Her neck. Her breasts. Between her legs.
He picked up her champagne glass and tilted it to her lips. She tasted the bubbly liquid, rolled it around on her tongue. It tickled her nose and she smiled.
“You are so fucking sexy, Ruby.”
Uncomfortable, she waved his words away. “No, I’m not.”
“I told you not to put yourself down.”
“I’m a lot of things, but sexy, or pretty, isn’t any of them.”
“If you think that, why did you pose nude?”
She straightened. “For one thing, I never thought those photographs would be sold. And…”