The Dragon Billionaire's Secret Mate(7)

"Nah, I run pretty hot," Samuel said. He brushed his hand against hers for a moment, letting her feel the heat that radiated off his skin.

"Must be nice," Theresa said wistfully. She got cold all the time. If this was a real date, she could take his hand, maybe huddle up against his warmth…

But it wasn't a real date, Theresa reminded herself, and if anything she could be glad he hadn't gotten grabby with her yet. Although the more time she spent in his company, and the more she got to know him, she was starting to think she wouldn't mind him touching her at all…

The main tourist season was over, so the pier wasn't as crowded as it could have been. Samuel found them a sheltered spot, out of the chilly breeze that rose off the water, but with a good view of the lake.

"If you save our spot, I'll get the ice cream," he said. "What's your favorite flavor?"

"Oh, um. I shouldn't," Theresa said guiltily. She'd already eaten way too much today. "I mean, look at me, do I really look like a woman who needs any more calories?"

Samuel frowned. "You look like a gorgeous woman who should eat exactly as much ice cream as she feels like eating," he said.

Theresa looked up at him, flustered. She never quite knew what to do with compliments, and he'd sounded so sincere about it. "Well, I guess one scoop won't hurt," she said.

Samuel had been right about the fireworks show: it really was spectacular. Theresa ate her ice cream and watched the bright blooms of fire explode in the sky. Samuel stretched out his arm along the back of the bench, brushing lightly against her shoulders, and the heat radiating off him kept her warm.

Theresa realized with a start that she was having a really good time. This was the nicest date she'd had in a decade. It might just be the nicest date she'd ever had in her life.

Except it wasn't a date.

Samuel was rich and gorgeous and charming. If he wanted to take a woman out to dinner and a fireworks show, all he had to do was ask. Instead, he'd offered fifty thousand dollars. Which meant there was something else he wanted, and the other shoe was probably about to drop as soon as they went back to his place.

She shivered.

"Still cold?" Samuel asked. He wrapped his arm around her. Theresa let herself lean into his warmth, and tried not to think about what secrets he might be hiding.



***



Samuel's penthouse stretched across the entire top floor of a skyscraper. The living room was an enormous open space, and the outer walls consisted entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows. Despite its size, the room was surprisingly comfortable, furnished with dark, soft-looking leather sofas, heaps of pillows and blankets inviting her to sit down and get comfortable; but it was the view that captured her attention.

"Wow." Theresa just barely managed to stop herself from pressing her nose against the glass. Beneath them, the city lights stretched out glittering all the way to the horizon. To the east, the lake lay dark and quiet, dotted with the lights of a few boats. The river snaked through the city like a dark ribbon, limned with golden dots of light.

"The view's really something, isn't it," Samuel said. He was standing beside her, looking down at Chicago with a warm smile on his face. He loves this city, Theresa thought.

"If the windows make you uncomfortable, I can opaque the bottom half," Samuel offered after a moment. "Some people get vertigo—"

"No, leave it. It's beautiful," Theresa said.

He let her enjoy the view for long minutes before he finally nodded towards the big leather sofa. "Do you want to sit down? Would you like a nightcap? I've got a pretty nice scotch, or we could open the rum... There's some other stuff." He went over to go through the bar in a corner of the room. She heard the clinking of bottles. "Martini, Sambuca... Lychee Liquor, um, I don't even know why I've got that…"

"Uh... the scotch, I guess," Theresa said, even though her stomach was slowly knotting into a ball of nerves, and she doubted she could get anything down.

This was it. Moment of truth. This was when he'd come out with what he really wanted.

But Samuel only sat down next to her, handed her a glass, and kept on making the same kind of light, interesting conversation he'd entertained her with all evening: talking about a bridge construction his company was involved with downtown, and then an interesting biography of Alexander Hamilton he'd read.

"They're doing a Broadway show about him now. It's supposed to be pretty good. Do you think you'd want to see it? We could take the jet up to New York on Friday, make a day of it..."

"Sure," Theresa said weakly. She felt half-hysterical with nerves. Sure, why not take the jet. The private jet. Which he owned. With the librarian from Clarksburg, who he was paying 50,000 dollars to, apparently, do nothing but sit around and have a conversation.