Page 52

“You want to take me out for dinner?” I ask, poking my chest with my pointer finger, completely baffled.
What’s with all the confessions and the want to woo me all of a sudden?
What changed?
I look down at the scattered paperwork. I can’t believe I was about to leave it like this. His admission has my head feeling like a cyclone is whirling through it.
There isn’t a damn thing you could say to keep me away from you.
This is big.
Big, big.
Huge.
He runs his hand over his scruff, and while his words might sound confident, there’s an air of uncertainty in his facial expression when he scratches his beard a bit too hard then glances sideways before looking back at me again. “It’s just dinner. Not a date,” he confirms.
“Just dinner?”
“Yes, it’s getting late. You didn’t stop for lunch, Arianna. You need to eat.”
Paying attention to me seems to have become his new hobby. Same for me too when it comes to him.
When will we give in to the increasing daily tension that is building between us? Does anyone in the office see or feel it, too? They must, because my heart can’t take any more. The rapid increase in my pulse is beating with a force large enough to cause an explosion.
It’s a date and he knows it, which intrigues me.
“Okay. Just dinner.”
“Jenkins will take you home.”
“Perfect.” I bend down to pick up the still scattered paperwork all over the floor. “Where are we going?”
“The Orchid Dome.”
Crouched down, startled by his reply, I look up to find him watching me. “The Orchid Dome?” Isn’t that the place to go to be seen? It’s the most upscale restaurant experience in the city.
It’s definitely a date.
Nathan runs his tongue along his teeth, knowing I can see right through him. He knows I know this is more than dinner.
“Do you have a problem with my choice of restaurant?” he asks, lifting his jaw slightly higher.
“No,” I squeak.
In fact, I’m so excited my stomach’s doing a giddy dance. I’ve never been before. One, because it’s way out of my budget, and two, you need to book several months in advance to reserve a table. “Will we get a table?” I ask.
“Of course.” He pulls his phone from his back pocket.
Before I’ve shuffled the papers into a neat pile, which I’ll file properly tomorrow, he announces, “Done.”
“Just like that?” Oh, to be as powerful as Nathaniel Hart. The puller of strings. Or at least that’s certainly how I feel aroundhim. Like he’s the puppet master and I’m a marionette, I gladly give in too often to him operating me and wouldn’t complain if he used me like a glove puppet… The things that man can do with his fingers.
“Arianna, did you hear me?” I’m drawn out of my memories of our night together.
“Sorry?”
“I said, yes, just like that.” His gaze drops to my lips, causing me to touch them and him to add, “I ruined your lipstick.”