Dark Light (The Dark Light Series)(24)

“We won’t need this,” Dorian says to our waitress, handing her one of the two small forks she brought with the tart. She looks puzzled and a bit embarrassed, as do I, but takes the fork and scurries away, leaving behind a pregnant pause.

Dorian takes the remaining fork and cuts into the tart, scooping up a bit of crust, custard and a fresh raspberry. He holds it in front of my lips, his eyes urging me to take a taste. I open my mouth slowly and Dorian eases the fork inside, sliding the creamy treat onto my tongue. I close my eyes as I savor the sweet silky custard, the rich crumbly crust, and the tartness of the berry. It’s divine. I open my eyes to meet Dorian’s smoldering hooded gaze. I lick my lips in response and smile slyly.

“Ok, your turn,” I say, taking the fork from him. I ration a small portion and slowly, deliberately feed Dorian the bite. He keeps his eyes on me the entire time, his stare intensifying as he gently chews. It’s enough to make me ache below and I secretly wish it was me he was consuming.

We continue on this way for the remainder of the tart and a glass of dessert wine when the familiar sound of a cell phone vibration interrupts us. It’s Dorian’s. He looks at the number, frowns and hits Ignore, stuffing the phone back into his jacket pocket. It makes me uneasy though I know I have no right to ask him who it is and why he didn’t answer.

Dorian’s demeanor shifts instantly and darkness creeps onto his face. The lighthearted, tender moments that we shared today are a distant memory. It’s as if I am looking at a stranger. The man who pressed his soft lips against mine in an impassioned, frenzied lip-lock is no longer present. The hidden darkness displayed on his caller ID has taken him away from me.

“Well, I better get home. It’s getting late,” I say after an uncomfortable beat. That’s right, better to end things on my terms before he dismisses me. My cold, guarded front is back with the intrusion of his.

“Yeah, that’s probably best,” he mutters and signals the waitress for the check.

When I offer to pay for my share, he waves me off without a word and pulls out his wallet. I sit in silence, fingering a loose thread on my sweater. Suddenly, I feel a warm finger on my chin gently pull my face up. Dorian is leaning over the table and his eyes connect with mine. He smiles kindly and I notice that he looks older, solemn. Remorse washes over him and I instantly soften. Once he notices that I’ve relaxed a bit, he exhales with relief. He then stands to his feet and holds his hand out to help me up. I oblige, and we make our way out into the cool evening air, hand in hand.

“I have to go out of town,” Dorian says somberly as we make our way back up to the northern part of town. When I don’t ask him where or why, he continues. “A family issue. I’d love to see you when I return. Do you have any plans for Friday?” There’s an apology in his voice. For what?

I think to make him sweat a little and don’t answer right away. “Ummm, I don’t think I have anything planned.” Who am I kidding? Of course, I’m free! I can’t even pretend to be a tease. “Sure. I think I can swing that.”

I look over and notice Dorian smirking in the shroud of darkness as he pulls up next to my car in the employee lot. There are many cars scattered around, being that it is only early evening. It seems wrong to call it a night so early on a Saturday, but Dorian seems urgent to get home.

“Where do you live, Dorian?”

“I’m staying at The Broadmoor for now,” he says a bit embarrassed. I nod my head, wondering why he’d feel embarrassed about staying at the most posh, luxurious hotel in town. Could he be one of those rebellious trust fund kids, ashamed of their inherited wealth? “Have you ever stayed there?”

“Can’t say I have. But I’ve heard it’s pretty swanky. That’s over by Cheyenne Mountain, right?”

“Yes, it is. And you? Where do you live?” he asks.

I think about my next answer carefully. “With my parents still. But Morgan and I are planning to get an apartment this summer.” No use in giving away too much information. As much as I want to, can I trust Dorian? With more than just my body, that is.

Dorian leans closer and my heartbeat quickens. “Thank you, Gabriella, for a wonderful evening,” he breathes. I reflexively inch closer to him.

“Anytime,” I smirk. I wish I could come up with something clever or sexy, but I go with the truth.

We sit staring at each other as our desire heats the small contained space. Dorian moves in a bit more and I gladly match his distance. We are so close, our breath mingling between open, inviting lips. Dorian nuzzles the bridge of his nose against mine and the contact is electric. I giggle at the gesture and he swiftly swallows it with his mouth, igniting the fire down between my thighs. I moan submissively and surrender to his curious tongue. Dorian relishes the admission; it only encourages him to deepen the kiss, cradling my face in his large hands and grabbing a handful of my tresses. I’m completely lost in him and want him to take this kiss further still. I want him. I’ve known this man for all of 10 minutes and I already want to feel him inside of me. And if his kiss is any indication of his sexual ability, I won’t be disappointed.