Page 19 of King of Obsession (Kings of the Underworld #1)
As the ma?tre d’ welcomes us to our table that is set in the middle of the room, a quartet plays in the background just for us. Crystal chandeliers hang from above, their reflections shimmering on the polished parquet floor.
At the round table, there is no menu. It’s a seven-course meal that the best chef money can buy will prepare for us.
The server, dressed impeccably in a tux, brings a bottle of wine. After I tip my head that it’s okay, he pours each of us a glass, then he retreats.
“You sure know how to wine and dine a woman.”
“I am not dining and wining just any woman. You have acquired tastes, Luciana. I can meet them.”
“So sure of yourself.” She rests her elbows on the table and her face between her palms, giving in to the serene atmosphere. “Let’s give in to this fantasy of yours.”
I cock a brow. “Fantasy? You’re funny even when you don’t try to be, amore.”
She rims with her finger over the glass, looking me straight in the eyes. “In your fantasy, I most probably betray Augustus and indirectly the Council to come here and play as the little wifey?”
“You’d be my partner, Luciana. I know exactly the type of woman you are, but yes, marriage would be implied.”
“Why?” she asks, her eyes widening as if the notion is preposterous.
I shrug. “You’re Italian.”
“We don’t know for sure.”
I wave a hand through the air, dismissing the so-called inconvenience. It wouldn’t make a difference to me. “I was your first, so even the traditionalists would be okay with our marriage.”
The tip of her nose crinkles. “A barbaric ritual.”
“One I abolished.”
“Such a modern man.” She purses her lips. “I would drive you crazy, and I am high maintenance.”
“I have more money than you could spend.”
“Should we test that?” The glint of a challenge sparkles more than the crystal vases overflowing with decadent white flower bouquets in the ballroom.
I smile under my breath. There would never be a dull moment with her.
“I’ll make more. But you have to think about our offspring. Let’s not leave them scraps just because Mommy has a shopping addiction.”
I thought the subject would scare her, but she surprises me once again when she steeples her fingers in front of her. A serious expression slides over her face as if readying herself for a negotiation.
“How many children do you want?”
I jerk my chin at her. “How many would you be willing to give me?”
“Damn, you’re a terrific negotiator,” she sighs and leans back. “I’ve never thought about anything like this before…”
Waving my hand in the air, I gesture for her to continue. “It’s just a fantasy of mine, right? So, indulge me.”
Silence follows as we both sip from our wine glasses. The first course arrives, foie gras with fig jam on a toast that melts on the tongue.
As she dabs with the linen napkin the corners of her lips, she taps her chin, appearing in deep thought. I like her more in her element than always posing as someone else. Plus, I don’t give a flying fuck about etiquette.
“Two. Boy and a girl.”
“Works for me.”
Her brows furrow as she waves a hand through the air. “We wouldn’t live in the city. I don’t like the constant buzz.”
“You’ll love the compound then.”
“Where your sister and mother live?” she asks, her tone laced with worry.
“Yes.”
She lets out a long sigh threaded with dejection. “They won’t like me.”
“Why do you think that?”
She sends me an intent look, raising her arms in the air, whisper snarling, “I’ve tried to kill you.”
“They don’t have to know everything. It made me hot, and I doubt they want to know that either.”
She laughs so wholeheartedly; her entire face radiates. “You’re unsalvageable.”
True. I am irredeemably and irrefutably mad about this woman in her entirety. Everything about her has been made to be claimed and treasured by me.
“Anything else?” I ask, urging her to continue.
“No pets. I hate dogs. Especially a Rottweiler. I swear you never know what they think.”
“Are you afraid of dogs?” Incredulity rings in my voice, finding it quite endearing.
“They’re unpredictable,” she exhales loudly, as if that should be common knowledge.
“So are you, and yet I am willing to keep you.”
She arches a brow, trying and failing to keep her grin at bay. “At your own risk.”
It’s my time to burst into laughter.
As the night progresses, I can’t stop thinking I like how we’re talking, planning, teasing. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, something I’ve never experienced before and know I will never experience again. Only her. Only with her.
We’re on our second bottle of wine and with every dish, she has smiled more and more, opening up. She can deny it all she wants; I am not the only one who would like to live out this so-called fantasy of mine. We’d make it work somehow.
Standing up, I offer her my hand, and she takes it automatically. Eyeing the quartet, they play a melody that rings of romanticism with every note.
“I can’t dance,” she whispers, clutching my arms.
“I have you.” It’s all I say as I swing her on the floor.
She’s a fast learner and I don’t know how much time passes, nor do I care. With her in my arms, the world could cease existing and all I’d like to do is keep dancing till the very end.
We stop only when she winces slightly. With the heels she’s wearing—two golden spikes, I don’t even have to wonder why.
Back at the table, I pull out the chair for her. As she takes her seat, I crouch in front of her.
“What are you doing?” she asks in a high-pitched tone, looking around. “People are watching. What are they going to say?”
“That this is how a man treats his woman.”
“You’re not just any man. Your repu—”
I don’t let her finish as I pin her down with a hard stare. “Luciana, I treat my woman as the queen she is. If anyone has a problem with that, let them comment. Only one will make that mistake. I assure you.”
After dessert arrives, she’s about to bring the fork filled with a chocolate raspberry mousse to her mouth when I say, “I’ve been hard since we left your hotel suite.”
“What does that mean?” she grins, thoroughly pleased with my state.
“You’ll see what that means.” I wink at her.
Tonight, I am fucking something else of hers.