He sat in a chair in the corner of the staging area, as the saleswoman had called it. The dressing rooms were down the hall, but this was just a room with mirrors and a raised platform so a person could see herself from all angles.
She turned to him and raised her arms. “Well?”
“You look amazing,” he said rather solemnly.
“It’s like fifteen hundred dollars together with the shoes.”
He gasped. “My goodness! We’ll have to leave a shoe behind.”
She flipped him the bird, which made him chuckle. Then he slowly unraveled from the small fancy chair, and when he reached the platform she realized she was slightly taller than him. There was something powerful in that. In having the slightest advantage over someone like him.
“It’s already paid for. I had your clothes boxed along with the garment bag for the dress with the receipt in case you later change your mind, and had it all sent down to the car.”
“Excellent.” Because she thought it was something someone who was rich would say.
“Then we should be off. Because do you know what I’m thinking right now?”
“No.”
“I’m looking into the mirror behind you where I can see nearly all of your creamy back, and I’m thinking that if I put my hands in just the right spot in the collar, I could tear this dress off you and see the rest of your creamy naked body in all these mirrors. How is that for honesty?”
“Pretty honest,” Sinead told him, even as she hopped down from the raised platform, pleased that she didn’t wobble in her new shoes. Then she looked over her shoulder at him. “But sex is officially off the table. I can’t accept a dress and nice shoes and then turn around and bang you. It’s the principle of it.”
“Forever?”
No, she thought. Definitely not forever. “For now.”
He tilted his head back as if talking to his God. “Intriguing and challenging. I’m going to be hard all night.” Then he looked at her. “Let’s go. I’m… hungry.”
Chapter 3
They were seated in a booth. The wine was the color of dark cherries. Sinead had already recognized a popular actor as they made their way to their seats.
Not Charlie Hunnam and not as hot as David, so it really didn’t matter. Still, it was like being in another world.
She shared a crappy two-bedroom with her father, who she sort of loved and sort of hated. She commuted nearly forty minutes to work every day to be a cop in a mostly suburban area, where the most excitement she’d had in the last month had been answering a call of a house alarm gone off.
Now she was here, dressed to fit in at the best restaurant in San Francisco, with the man who had the face of an angel, but who was clearly more devil.
The waiter brought a plate of food they hadn’t ordered, and Sinead looked at David who was studying it.
“Do they use mental telepathy to simply decide what to serve you?”
“I put a request in to let the chef prepare our meal. It’s always best to simply go with the flow. You get the best that way.”
“And you’re a man who always gets the best?”
He smiled. “I always want the best. Frankly, I don’t understand people who don’t. Why have the second best? Or something that’s just okay? We’re on this earth for what I’m learning is a ridiculously short amount of time. Why not try to enjoy it to the utmost?” He took what appeared to be a small toasted baguette topped with something dark and round and popped it into his mouth.
Sinead waited for his reaction, which was to close his eyes and groan softly. A sound that went straight between her legs.
When he opened his eyes again he smiled. “The best. Now your turn.”
Sinead looked at the appetizer. Or was it an amuse bouche? She wasn’t so classless she didn’t know the difference between the two. Still, she had absolutely no idea what was on the piece of toast.
“Don’t be squeamish.”
“I’m not.”
Truly she didn’t know if she was or not. She’d never had the opportunity to know if she could handle haute cuisine, which rarely served things she was used to, like… chicken.
Deciding this night was all about taking risks, she reached for the bite-sized morsel on the plate and popped it into her mouth. An explosion of flavors burst in her mouth and she didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, until she finally decided it was a good thing.
She smiled. “Yum.”
“Yum, she says. I’m certain the chef will be pleased.”
Sinead reached for the wine and took a sip, and the combination of the two was even more interesting.
“Tell me what you do,” she said as a way to distract herself from watching him eat. In her life she’d never thought watching a man consume food would be sexy. That was until she met him.