The Dragon Billionaire's Secret Mate(5)

"Oh, um, it was fine," Theresa said.

He came around the table to pull out her chair, which no one in her entire life had ever done for her. She'd been pretty sure that kind of chivalrous gesture only happened to European princesses, these days. But then he was a billionaire, and he probably did spend time with nobility.

In her crumpled, badly-fitting dress she felt like Cinderella meeting Prince Charming while dressed in her rags. For the hundredth time, she wondered what had driven him to choose her.

At least so far it didn't seem like he was disappointed with the reality of her, compared to the pictures she'd sent. He was smiling as he sat down. For a moment, his eyes almost seemed to glow with a golden fire. But then Theresa blinked and the illusion was gone. It had been nothing but a reflection of the candlelight, of course.

"Did you find the office okay? How was the drive?" Samuel asked.

"Oh, um, it was fine," Theresa said, because he probably didn't want to hear a long tirade on the evils of Illinois roadwork.

"Would the lady like something to drink?" the waiter asked, approaching with their menus.

"Just a water for now, please," Theresa said distractedly, staring down at the menu. There weren't any prices on it at all, which probably meant this was one of those 'if you have to ask, you can't afford it' kind of situations. Well, presumably Samuel wasn't planning to pay her 50,000 dollars for her company but then stick her with the dinner bill. She scanned the elegant menu page in front of her, trying desperately to find something that actually sounded recognizably like food and also like it might be more or less affordable. Maybe she'd just order an appetizer…

"I'm sorry, I know this place is really pretentious," Samuel said.

Theresa looked up at him, startled.

"The food really is worth it though, I promise," he added with a smile. "If you want a recommendation, the lobster pie is to die for."

Oh, good. She'd been kind of terrified she was accidentally going to order a $200 dish and piss him off. But if he'd recommended it, he couldn't get mad at her for ordering it, right? And she'd never had lobster before.

"Do you want to split the shrimp appetizer?" Samuel asked.

"Sure," Theresa said. It did sound really good, and she figured she couldn't go wrong going along with his suggestions.

"Would you like any wine in particular?"

Okay, and now she was thoroughly out of her depth again. Sometimes her and Carolyn got tipsy on a seven dollar bottle of white wine on Saturday evenings, and that was where her experience with wine started and ended.

"Um," Theresa said.

"We could just order a bottle of Merlot," Samuel suggested. "They have some really amazing vintages here, but frankly, they're a little bit wasted on me. My brother always tells me I have a simple palate."

"That sounds good," Theresa said gratefully.

They made polite small talk while they waited for their appetizers to arrive, talking about the weather (unusually warm for the end of September) and hockey (which it turned out neither of them cared about at all.)

"Oh, thank God," Samuel said. "I go to so many functions for work, and 90% of that is small talk, and half of that is people wanting to talk to me about the Blackhawks. I could not possibly care less about hockey, and I still have to follow every game, because I never know when I'm going to have to talk about it for an hour and a half just to make some major client happy."

"God, that sounds awful," Theresa said laughing. "What exactly do you do, anyway?"

"I'm head of the company's charitable foundation," Samuel said. "My brother calls it the tax write-off division," he said, with a self-deprecating little laugh. "But it's actually… Our people do really good work. They save a lot of lives." He smiled, his eyes lighting up; it was obvious how much he liked his work.

"Right now I'm focusing on a project that's trying make sure remote villages in the Sudan have access to safe clean water. We're working together with a local team to build wells in the traditional way. It's pretty amazing, actually," Samuel said. He was gesturing animatedly as he talked. Theresa caught herself watching his strong, elegant hands, charmed equally by his enthusiasm and his expressive body language.

"Some of these techniques are hundreds of years old," Samuel continued. "They seem simple, but they work better than anything we could do now with the resources we've got available. We provide the heavy equipment for the actual digging, but the locals are the ones who choose the best spots to make sure the well doesn't run dry and the water stays clean, and we're using traditional methods for the scaffolding and the brickwork… oh God, I'm sorry," Samuel said. "I'm rambling. I'm sorry. I'm just really excited about this right now. I didn't mean to bore you."