Right Billionaire, Wrong Wedding (Sexy Billionaires)(45)

His eyes dropped to her mouth. “That sounds like a challenge.”

With a laugh, she pushed him away. “Food first. I’m starving.”

“All right, angel. Food first. I made reservations at a little Italian place I love. Come on.” He took her hand, leading her back toward the elevator.

As she followed him she tried not to think too hard about the endearment that had fallen so easily from his lips.

Or how just hearing it sent the butterflies in her stomach into a whirlwind.



When they arrived at the restaurant, Allison was thankful for the first time that Gillian had insisted on buying her the black dress. Wearing it, she almost looked like she belonged here. Together they walked through the doors of the elegant restaurant that was officially priced out of her usual dining experiences. Glancing at the chic clientele already in their seats, she wondered if they could somehow sense she wasn’t part of their world.

Darian strode forward unperturbed, and she supposed evenings out at a restaurant in which the interior was a work of art was the norm for him. He shook hands with the maître d’, asking how he’d been. She waited while the two exchanged a few words. It was obvious Darian was a regular at this spot.

“Let me show you to your table,” the maître d’ said. “I’ll have your usual wine sent over at once.”

“Thank you, Antonio.”

Trying not to feel like Cinderella, she followed Darian to their table. She slid into the chair held out for her and tried not to wince when she sat too early and their guide let out a little huff as he pushed her to the table.

“Here are your menus,” Antonio said, holding one out to her first. “Your server will be right over.”

“Thank you,” Darian said, his eyes already on his menu.

Opening her own, she tried to concentrate on the words before her, but it proved an impossible task. The combination of their surroundings and her lover’s proximity had her mind on anything but food.

“I thought you were hungry,” he said.

She turned toward him to see his eyes on hers. “Yes, yes I am,” she agreed, glancing back at the offerings. “What do you recommend?”

He grinned as he picked up his own menu. After perusing it for a moment, he looked up with a wink. “Me.”

A surprised laugh escaped her. “Darian,” she chided.

“That’s better,” he replied, setting down the menu. “This is supposed to be fun, Ali. Breathe.”

She returned his smile, knowing that as good as this restaurant no doubt was, it didn’t have what she wanted most on the menu. When their waiter came, she picked at random from the pasta list.

Once their menus were cleared away and their wine poured, Darian leaned forward on the table. “You really do look beautiful tonight,” he told her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so…”

“Put together?” she teased.

“Breathtaking,” he replied.

Her eyes shot to his. In the four years they’d worked together, he’d never stared at her the way he was now. The expression on his face made her forget the leggy models and gorgeous actresses of his past. They weren’t here right now. Tonight, he had eyes for her alone and she was woman enough to revel in the moment.

“I clean up well when I put the effort in,” she said, taking a sip of wine. “Until recently, you only knew the office version of me.”

“It’s true,” he agreed. “Which makes you rather fascinating.”

That made her smile. “Why?”

“Because I thought I knew everything about you, and here I learn I’ve barely scratched the surface.” He twirled his glass of wine. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“Sharing confidences? I may be new to the casual sex game, but even I know this crosses lines.”

He was silent a moment. “You’re not interested in crossing lines with me?”

If only he knew. She’d cross every line he wanted if it would win her more time with him.

“What would you like to know?”

He leaned back, a smile on his lips. “Tell me about your life before you wound up on my doorstep.”

“I’m not an abandoned puppy.” She shook her head. “Before King Enterprises I was at home. My parents live out east in a small town.”

“Ah, yes. The infamous Mr. and Mrs. Reed. You rarely mention them.”

“There’s not much to tell. They didn’t approve of me moving across the country.”

“You must not visit them much,” he said, frowning. “I can’t remember the last time you took a sick day, let alone a vacation.”