Voyeur Extraordinaire(31)

I shifted and grabbed my purse from the small table beside the door.

Adrian held his hand out for me and I stared at it for a moment before I took it hesitantly. As soon as our hands touched, my skin began to tingle, my body to burn. His grip was strong, almost possessive, but never tight enough to hurt. “Ready?”

I looked at him with wide eyes but he was just smiling charmingly as he led me towards the elevator. Didn't he feel it? Or maybe he was just used to holding hands with women and it didn't affect him anymore. I pushed the thought aside and hoped my body would grow accustomed to being close to him soon. The elevator doors slid closed and Adrian turned toward me, our hands still entwined. “I’m glad you said yes. You won’t regret it.” His voice was low and full of promise. I tilted my head up with what I hoped was a teasing smile. “We’ll see.” It actually came out as I’d intended. Maybe I was getting better at hiding my nervousness.

He chuckled. A few strands of his blond hair fell across his forehead and before I could stop myself I brushed them away, my fingertips grazing his skin. I froze, heat crawling up my throat and cheeks. His gaze burned through me and he gripped my hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing my knuckles. I pressed my lips together to stop myself from making a sound. It wouldn’t do to moan because of a knuckle kiss. He focused on my lips, but then the doors of the elevators glided open, and one of my elderly neighbors waited to get in. I backed away from Adrian and together we exited the elevator.

“Are we going to take a cab?” I asked as we stepped outside.

“No, I prefer to take my own car.”

“You don’t mind the crazy traffic?”

“I can be patient if I want to be,” he said cryptically, then led me toward a black BMW convertible. He held the door open for me and when I slid into the passenger seat, I realized that I was already much calmer than thirty minutes ago. Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could be charming and sexy and alluring without any incidents.

“I hope you like Italian cuisine,” he said as he started the car.

“Yes, I do.” After that I wasn’t sure what else to say. I could have asked him about his job, but that would have led to him asking about my work in turn and I didn’t want to admit that I was a waitress in a shabby bar. The women I’d seen in his bedroom before had seemed sophisticated, most of them dressed in fancy dresses or business suits. Though he could probably guess that I wasn’t a successful businesswoman from looking at my dingy apartment.

The drive to the restaurant passed in silence, except for the classical music ringing out of the speakers. I enjoyed watching Adrian drive, the way his strong hands held the steering wheel, or the way his jaw tightened whenever a cab cut in front of us. He looked so in control of everything. I’d never seen him in anything but impeccable clothes, his hair deliberately disheveled. Did he ever let loose?

Even when I’d spied on him having sex with all these women, he’d looked in control of the situation, as if he’d never even consider letting down his guards. I wanted to peer behind those walls. I wanted to see the true Adrian. I snapped my gaze back to my hands resting on the purse in my lap when I realized how long I’d been staring at him. Had he noticed?

But I wasn’t the only one who used the drive to risk a peek. I noticed Adrian throwing glances my way repeatedly, and I wondered if it was a good or bad sign. I knew I should say something, start a conversation, but my nervousness and my worry to do something wrong held me back. And maybe Adrian didn’t like talking when he drove. He didn’t seem particularly bothered by our silence. He hadn’t even mentioned my voyeurism yet. Maybe he was saving that particular topic for dinner. I surely hoped not.

Adrian pulled up in front of the restaurant Da Daniele in Brooklyn. I'd read about it in the New York Times a while back. It was the best and most expensive Italian restaurant in the city. This knowledge didn't help to calm me down. If possible it made me even more nervous, since it showed that Adrian was having high expectations. Why else would he be willing to invest so much money into a first date?

Maybe because there were never second dates in his life. I didn’t like that idea, and chose to pick the option that he was stinking rich. Adrian killed the engine and swiveled to me. “This is one of my favorite restaurants. They have the best Osso Bucco in town.”

“I’m vegetarian,” I blurted, and immediately wanted to be swallowed up by the ground. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”

He smiled. “They have great pasta and gnocchi too, and if all else fails there’s still dessert. You won’t go hungry, trust me.”