Page 21 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

Sitting back in the stool, his hand skates over to his jacket pocket, revealing the hot pink, handheld remote.

I swat at his hand, shooting him an urgent glare. “I asked if you had it, you don’t need to make it so obvious.”

“Well, you’re the one who asked for it.”

“Yeah, to make sure you had it,” I retort just as a flash of white fills my periphery from the napkin Dante is placing in front of us.

Great.

“Lorena.” Dante nods to me, but his attention is all over Owen who looks uncomfortable from the way Dante is inspecting him.

Owen extends his hand for him to shake, and I swear I think I’m going to die, because the fucking moron still has the remote in it.

An uneasy, and extremely awkward laugh sounds from him as he quickly sticks it back in his jacket pocket, before re-extending his hand to shake Dante’s.

As they do, Dante has averted his gaze back to me.

Lifted brows and a stern jaw tell me all I need to know.

Just like my brother and Tino would do, he’s assessing who I’m with.

At least he has a more silent approach in doing so, since neither Tomás or Tino, who is arguably worse than my own brother, know how to hold back what they feel or bite their tongue.

They have an issue with everyone I’m with.

Clearly not aware that they are all casual hook-ups, and nothing serious that would require being grilled.

“Dante.” He introduces himself after Owen does. They let go of each other’s hands, but Dante continues to stare at him. “You look familiar, have you stopped in here before?”

“Who, me? God, no.”

This fucking asshole.

Quickly he changes his tune when he realizes Dante most definitely picked up on his disgust. “I mean, although I have a place here in the city, I spend ninety percent of my time in Miami. I’m just in town on business, so I don’t get out much when I’m in New York.”

“What do you do?” Dante asks.

Wanting nothing more than to end this interaction, I intervene. “He’s a real estate investor.”

My response seems to irritate Dante.

“Thought so,” Dante says, cryptically. “Well, I don’t want to keep you two any longer than I already have from your date.”

“It’s not a date.” The words pour from my mouth like word vomit.

Interest flickers in Dante’s eyes. “Interesting. Anyway, what’ll it be for you two?”

“Mojito for me.” I rapid fire my go-to drink order.

“Same,” Owen says, dryly.

“Coming right up.” Dante goes to make our drinks, and Owen breathes a sigh of relief that he’s gone, as do I.

“You know him?” Owen still seems uncomfortable, if anything more so than he just did when Dante was talking to us.

“Yeah, he’s one of my brother’s best friends. We all grew up together.”

Owen makes an odd humming sound. “I see. Well, he’s…intense.”

If only he knew that Dante is nothing compared to his brother.

Our drinks appear in front of us, this time by the bartender who gave us the menus and not Dante.

I reach for mine, downing it, relieved that Owen is too busy thumbing away on his phone in between sipping his drink to engage in any conversation.

In silence, we finish our drinks, and just as I’m about to wave the bartender over for another, Owen already has his card out ready to pay.

“I wanted another one.” I don’t hide the annoyance in my voice or the pout that my lips are making.

Ignoring me, he flips his wrist up, looking at his watch despite having his phone screen with the bold face digital clock right in front of him.

Any opportunity to show off how much money he has and that there’s a Rolex on his wrist, he seizes.

I’m irked with myself that my need for no-strings-attached orgasms made me entertain someone like him.

He’s arrogant, and not in a suave kind of way.

He’s full of himself in a showy, materialistic way that lacks any passion or substance.

“We’re going to be late. You can have whatever you want at the restaurant.” He lowers his hand, using it to point to where he stowed away the remote. “And then I can use this.”

“In the restaurant?” My eyes widen. I don’t know why I’m reacting this way.

This certainly isn’t the first time we’ve engaged in public play.

Despite my job requiring me to be painfully aware of public perception, there’s something about engaging in sex in a public setting that really gets me going.

Though now, it doesn’t feel like it a good idea, since we aren’t miles away. We’re here, in New York. The city I’m from. Where we can run into, oh, I don’t know, my brother or any of my friends…or worse, Tino.

“Umm, yeah. Jesus Christ, Lorena, you know what I like. And you like it too. Don’t pretend to be such a prude and that you don’t like how I know the perfect combination of settings to get you off.

” There is so much wrong with what he just said to me and how he said it, none of which I feel like addressing right now, not with Dante giving me a death stare from across the bar.

“Whatever,” I scoff. “Just don’t forget to give it back to me after.”

“How could I forget? You’ve only reminded me a handful of times already. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re readying yourself to break up with me.”

“We’d have to be dating to break up,” I retort back to Owen, who is now standing up looking at his watch again, agitated.

I rise from my chair and go to wave goodbye to Dante now that he’s back in sight, standing next to the register behind the bar. However, he’s too focused on his phone.

Owen looks over to Dante for a second, and when he turns back to look at me, he holds out his hand for mine, but I decline, walking ahead of him to remind him that we are nothing.

Luckily, Owen accepts my refusal. He hurries his steps to keep up with mine, grabbing the door before I can get to it.

As soon as our feet hit the pavement outside, there’s an Uber waiting for us. Owen takes a step ahead of me to open the SUV door.

I slide in to the far seat in the middle row, with Owen following after me, seeming a bit antsy.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Yep. Today was a big day for me, I closed on a deal I’ve been fighting for. I’m just looking forward to celebrating with you.”

I hum a ‘mhm’, more interested in looking at the GPS on the driver’s phone, curious where we’re going, but I can’t make out the address.

It isn’t until we come to a final stop, and the navigation system announces our arrival through the speaker, that I’m made aware of where we’ll be eating.

I lean forward in my seat, just to confirm that my ears didn’t deceive me, too afraid to turn my head and look at the brick building we’re idling in front of.

But sure enough, there it is. In plain sight, just above the address, the name I thought I heard through the car’s speaker.

Cielo + Cibo.

Shit. If I thought Dante grilling Owen was bad, forget about how it will be when Tino sees me with him… in his restaurant no less. It’ll be Miami all over again. Except this time, it wouldn’t only be his reputation on the line, as his publicist, it’ll be mine too.

In a panic, I unlock my phone, swiping to the calendar I linked with Tino. I tap on tonight, and relief washes over me to see that he isn’t working dinner service.

Still, I don’t think the original plan of using the wearable vibrator at Tino’s restaurant, whether he’s there or not, is a good idea.

Someone whether it’s a guest, or a server, or pretty much anyone is bound to notice.

And if it gets back to Tino, it’ll spark a fit from him all while making me look like the biggest hypocrite ever since I’m the one who has been lecturing him on how to behave in public.

Owen opens the car door, but I skid forward in the seat, grabbing his arm.

“Wait!” I call out.

He turns around with a confused look on his face. “Yes?”

“Let’s not use the remote here. In fact, why don’t you just give it to me now.”

Taking the lapel of his sportscoat in each hand, he tugs at it, before buttoning it closed. “Oh, come on, it’ll be fun.”

“I mean it,” I warn him.

But like the prick he is, he ignores me, moving out of the car and heading to the entrance. I follow after him, ready to yank at him again to get his attention, but the opportunity is lost when he leads the way inside, making a beeline to the hostess station.

I don’t make eye contact with any of the staff as we pass by them on our way to be seated at our table.

The nerves I feel reach a peak when Owen slows his stroll and lowers his hand, interlacing his fingers with mine. “I’ve been dying to try this place,” he whispers, with an edge to his voice that borders on sadistic, seemingly out of nowhere.

My heart is racing a mile a minute, now skating my gaze all throughout the restaurant, trying to see if anyone has noticed me here, aside from the hostess Claire.

“Me too,” I finally reply to him, pulling free from his hold the second we approach our table.

Taking a seat, I thank Claire as we sit down, and a menu is handed to us both.

He waits until she is out of sight before the sadistic tone I detected before has now morphed onto his face. The look doesn’t suit his already sharp features. It looks borderline evil. Calculated.

“You know, the owner of this place is a real piece of work.” He looks around assessing our surroundings with palpable judgement same way he did at Hummingbirds. “It made winning the real estate bid we were competing over that much better.”

My stomach drops at what he’s saying. The sinking feeling only continues the more he drones on.

“He’s a real fucking asshole.”

“No, I think you’re the asshole.”

Owen laughs. “How so?”

“You beat Ti — ” I stop myself, clearing my throat. “The owner in a bidding war, and now you’re at his place of business to what, gloat?”

Owen shrugs.

“That’s fucked up.”

“So is using me, Lorena. So why don’t you hop off that high horse and shut that pretty little mouth of yours, huh?”