Splendor(57)

He felt her quiver in arousal against him, and knew that if he slid his hand inside her coat he would find the hardened peak of her nipple.

“It’s okay,” she whispered back. “Even if I can’t really understand you, I think hearing you speak French or Italian would be incredibly romantic. And sexy.”

Ian groaned. “I fear that when I take you to my bed I’m going to forget my own damned name, much less how to say it in French.”

Simon pulled up to the restaurant moments later, holding the back door open as Ian exited first, then assisted Tessa out. It was a chilly evening, and he smiled indulgently as she snuggled deeper into her new coat.

“I’m developing a serious case of envy for that coat,” he grumbled as he opened the door to the restaurant.

She giggled as she preceded him inside. “How can you be envious of a coat?”

He slid his arms around her waist, hugging her back against his chest. “Because it’s wrapped around your body, and I’d give anything at this moment to change places with it.”

He pressed a little closer against her buttocks, and he knew from the little gasp she made that she could feel the heavy ridge of his erection, even through the fabric of her coat. He was grateful that he was wearing a black wool overcoat of his own, which he quickly buttoned before approaching the host stand, hiding his rather obvious arousal.

Ian patronized this restaurant often enough that many of the staff knew him by name. Tonight the maître d’ himself – Victor - greeted Ian, who then introduced him to Tessa.

Victor was far too discreet and well-trained to betray even a hint of surprise at seeing Ian here with a date – and with a woman who was obviously quite a bit younger than he was.

“Welcome to Le Mistral, Mademoiselle,” greeted Victor as he shook Tessa’s hand. “I can guarantee that you will have the most wonderful meal of your life this evening. Now, if you please, follow me to your table. You are in the Blue Room as requested, Monsieur Gregson.”

The Blue Room was a small, private dining room that could hold up to a dozen guests comfortably. Ian had hosted a number of business dinners here as well as entertained family members when they had visited. But for tonight he and Tessa would be the only occupants.

As he took Tessa’s coat and hung it on the corner rack, he smiled to observe her as she took in the truly fabulous interior of the private room. A fresco in blues and golds had been painted on the domed ceiling; the walls were papered in a blue and cream stripe; and the thick carpet beneath their feet was of a lush shade of blue. Ian was thankful to note that the large dining table that was usually in this room had been temporarily moved out and replaced with a much smaller, more intimately sized one. It was set with pristine white linens, exquisite blue floral china, gleaming flatware, and fine crystal, the high backed chairs upholstered in a pale blue fabric.

Tessa’s eyes were wide with wonder as she turned to him. “This is so lovely. Like a palace. I’ve never been anywhere like this before.”

Her heartfelt confession tugged at his emotions, and he feared he was going to continue discovering just how little Tessa had experienced or been given in her life thus far.

“I’m glad you like it,” was all he said in reply. “I entertain business associates here quite a lot and the food is just about the best in the city. And,” he added, “there’s the extra bonus of these private rooms. I doubt we’d run into anyone from the office here this evening but it’s always a possibility.”

“Oh.” Tessa bit her bottom lip, as though that thought hadn’t occurred to her until now. “You’re sure it’s all right?”

“Yes, it’s fine. Not to mention that Victor is extremely discreet and would never dream of telling anyone that I was here this evening. We’ll need to talk some about how we’re going to have to conduct ourselves around the office, but that can keep. For now, let’s have a seat, shall we?”

The waiter entered the room just after they had seated themselves, and Ian grinned broadly as he greeted the man.

“I was hoping they’d assign you to this table, Roland,” he told the waiter. “This is Miss Lockwood, my dining companion. Tessa, Roland is the very best waiter here at Le Mistral. I know he’ll take excellent care of us this evening.”

Roland, a short, slightly rotund man with an Eastern European accent, told Tessa how delighted he was to meet her and assured her that Mr. Gregson was correct – he would strive to take very good care of them.

Tessa looked a bit uncertain when Roland asked for their cocktail orders, and Ian swiftly came to the rescue. “I’ll have my usual, please. As for the lady – let’s see. Do you like lemonade, Tessa?”