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“No.”
Rose opened the menu and perused it.
Leo did the same but watched Rose over the top of his menu, which contained no prices. A posh boutique restaurant like this didn’t bother with them. If you needed to know the price, you couldn’t afford to eat here.
Rose folded her menu and set it down. She ran her hands over the leather binding with gold-leaf lettering. With a mischievous gleam in her eye she said, “I didn’t see anything I like. Let’s go somewhere else.”
“This is the highest-rated restaurant in Nafplion,” he said. “People usually wait months to get a table here.”
“Let me guess, Mr. P made a call, and a table suddenly opened up.”
“Yes.” Leo tugged at his tie again.
“That was very kind of him, but I don’t care to eat at an establishment that cancels one person’s reservation because a higher bidder comes along.” She tossed her napkin on her plate and stood. “I’m going to eat somewhere else. Are you coming?” She held out a hand to him.
Leo threw a bill down, even though they hadn’t ordered, and took her hand, leaving their table behind. Rose had hijacked their date, and all of Leo’s plans went out the window. Well, maybe there would still be a kiss at the end.
On the street, he asked her, “Where to?”
“We’ll wander,” she said with confidence. “We’ll find a cozy spot to eat and then let the night choose our path.”
Her ideas sounded both dangerous and exhilarating. When was the last time this billionaire father of two had thrown the itinerary away and been spontaneous? He recalled doing such things with Nia. She could always coax him into putting the business aside for a bit to live his life. He always came back rejuvenated and more productive. In fact, work seemed easier since Rose came into his life, and he spent more time seeing Greece through her eyes and devoting more time to the children.
Hand in hand, they walked.
Leo let the moment wash over him. The feel of Rose’s hand in his was natural. Her palms were smooth and provided an elegant base for her long, tapered fingers. She kept her nails trimmed, and the tips formed white crescents.
Rose turned a corner onto a quieter street. She paused in front of a small restaurant to read the menu posted in the window. “Here,” she declared.
And in they went.
A waitress asked if they wanted to eat in or out, and Rose chose out.
They passed through a small indoor dining room, with a few patrons, to a respectably sized outdoor courtyard. Large bulbs on strings hung from the trees to illuminate the space while fairy lights wound inside glass jars added to the ambiance.
The waitress seated them at a corner table under one of the trees and handed them menus before leaving to fill their drink order.
To keep himself from dwelling on the fact that he had to relinquish Rose’s hand to sit down, he asked, “Did you know this place was here?”
Rose looked at him. “Of course not. I believe Greece is much like France in the fact that good local cuisine can be found around any street corner. France hasn’t once let me down in satisfying the foodie in me. Why should Greece be any different? Unless you don’t think Greek food is on a par with French food.” She raised a brow at him in challenge.
“I agree that Greek and French food are equal.” He wouldn’t dare insult her homeland. Doing so would certainly put a damper on their relationship.
They read in silence until Rose set down her menu.
The waitress reappeared with their drinks, took their order, and set off for the kitchen.
She leaned her chin on one hand. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
There were a million things Leo could choose from, including his secrets, but his mind went blank. He scrambled for something, anything, to say. “I don’t like octopus,” he blurted and inwardly cringed.
Rose blinked. “Oh. Not what I was expecting.”
Heat warmed his cheeks. What an idiotic thing to say.
“Duly noted. I will never serve you or order you octopus,” she said.
“Thank you.”