For 100 Days(65)

The last moments of sunset paint the darkening sky in vivid colors as we make our way to the far end of the patio and the only open table—which also happens to be the one with the most romantic view of the water and skyline through the sheltering palms.

As we settle in at our table, Nick sends the hostess away with a request for a bottle of champagne. I notice he doesn’t specify the label, nor does she ask.

“Are we celebrating?” I ask, glancing across to him while I unfold my white linen napkin and place it on my lap.

“Rumor has it someone quit their job today.” He arches a brow in question. “I’d say that calls for celebration or consolation. Champagne seems a good accompaniment for either one.”

I swallow, caught off guard by the reminder of what happened today. “It’s cause for celebration,” I say, unsure if I’m resolved or merely hopeful. “My boss is a jerk. If I’d had the nerve, I would’ve quit long before now.”

Nick listens silently, his gaze never leaving me as I speak. “Sometimes it’s hard to see the things that are holding us back. Sometimes it takes a push to make us truly open our eyes.”

I nod, acknowledging to myself just how right he is about that. How long would I have endured Joel’s overbearing treatment if I hadn’t been forced to confront him? Would I have accepted his domineering attitude if it hadn’t been for the sense of self-worth and power that being with Nick these past several weeks has instilled in me?

Our champagne arrives, a 1998 Dom Perignon that I’m certain I won’t find on the general wine list. The wine steward carrying the four-hundred-dollar bottle waits for Nick’s approval, then pours it for us. After the bottle is placed on ice and the steward is gone, Nick raises his glass.

“To opened eyes,” he says.

I smile and touch my glass to his. “To good surprises and spectacular sunsets too.”

“Indeed.”

A broad grin breaks over his face, and for an instant I’m spellbound. I am well aware that Dominic Baine is handsome. Arrestingly so. But the impact of his smile on me in the middle of this crowded restaurant patio, with the unshakable awareness that everyone here is looking at us—wishing they could be us—is like something out of a dream.

He is like something out of a dream, and I barely resist the urge to pinch myself to make sure I’m actually awake and living this moment, not merely wishing I am.

My first sip of the crisp champagne tingles all the way down my throat. Nick doesn’t take his gaze off me, not even to watch the final explosion of color that fills the sky in the moments before the sun is doused and the brilliant colors over the water give way to a starlit night.

We place our dinner orders—for Nick, the Chilean sea bass, and, for me, a Caribbean style red snapper—then settle back to share a ceviche appetizer of baby octopus, shrimp, white fish, and julienned vegetables sprinkled with cilantro and drizzled with a spicy cream sauce.

Nick pops a shrimp into his mouth, then watches as I push one of the small, many tentacled morsels to the other side of the plate with my fork. He shakes his head at me. “That piece is yours. Take it.”

I wrinkle my nose, skepticism surely written all over my face. “Hmm, no, thanks.”

“It’s the best part of this dish.” He stabs it on the end of his fork and holds it out to me over the plate. When I only stare at the decapitated little creature, Nick cocks his head. “Don’t tell me this is your first time?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

He doesn’t move his hand. And now, more than one person is staring our way while I sit frozen, and not a little repulsed, by Nick’s gentlemanly but unwanted offering.

“Try it, Avery. Don’t let fear keep you from pushing your personal boundaries. If you do, you’ll miss out on some of the most pleasurable things in life.”

I can’t look away from his intense gaze and something dark—something wicked—unfurls deep inside me at his low-voiced enticement. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not only talking about dinner?”

His answering smile is decadent, carnal. “Trust, Ms. Ross. Remember? You have my word, I won’t introduce you to anything you won’t enjoy. Immensely.”

After everything he’s shown me so far, I don’t doubt that for a second.

Given little choice, I lean forward and close my mouth around his fork. The octopus feels strange on my tongue, tender yet firm. As I chew, I discover the flavor is actually quite good. Citrus and spice and creamy sweet sauce mingle wonderfully with the delicate taste of the octopus.

“You like it?” At my nod, Nick smiles approvingly, still leaned forward in his chair, his gaze riveted on my mouth. “I can’t wait to expand your horizons even further.”