The door opened as they approached. A small, wizened man in a perfectly fitted dark suit said, “Welcome, Ms. Russell and Mr. Trainor. We’re so glad you could join us this evening.” His accent was pure Maine.
He turned and led them through a whitewashed foyer furnished with a round polished wooden table topped with a huge vase of fresh flowers. Arched doors led out to the dining area that held widely spaced tables covered in cream linen under large, gracefully curved pewter chandeliers. Although the effect was meant to be elegant simplicity, something about the sheen of the tablecloths and the brilliant sparkle of the glassware exuded a sense of no expense being spared. Chloe eyed a place setting as they passed a table and was relieved to see all the utensils were recognizable.
The maître d’ led them to a table by one of the arched windows. Chloe suspected it was the most desirable view in the restaurant, since she could see the lights of the charming seaside town, as well as the pink, yellow, and orange of the sunset sky reflected and fractured on the waves of the sea. “It looks like a painting,” she breathed as Nathan waved their guide aside and held the chair for her.
“I timed it so we could arrive at sunset,” he said, his palms briefly caressing her shoulders. His touch sent a ripple of delight dancing across her skin.
He sat down across from her. As she turned from the view to look at him over the low bowl of flowers between them, she could barely catch her breath. His hair shone like burnished bronze; the planes of his lean face caught light and shadow like a sculpture; and the clear, masculine lines of his lips made her want to trace them with her fingertips. But it was his eyes that knocked her sideways. Their gray depths held brilliant intelligence, banked desire, and a focus that was entirely on her.
Nathan frowned as Chloe seemed to freeze when he looked at her. “Is everything all right?”
He saw her throat move as she swallowed. “Fine. It’s all fine.” She still looked like a deer caught in headlights.
“I’m not convinced.”
Chloe grabbed her water goblet and took a gulp. “Just a little overwhelmed.”
Nathan looked around the room, seeing nothing but tables, chairs, and white-painted walls. The pewter chandeliers were shiny but not ornate. “It’s just a restored seaport inn. Nothing fancy.”
Chloe made a small choking sound and held up her water glass, turning it so the crystal glittered with tiny rainbows. “It looks simple, but it’s the kind of simple that costs a lot of money.”
Her reactions were so different from other women’s. His previous dates pretended not to notice where he took them or how they got there, but he could always see the calculations going on behind their masks of indifference. Chloe was frank in her appraisal of what things cost, and faintly disapproving of extravagance.
“This place has the best lobster I’ve ever eaten,” he said. “That’s why I brought you here.”
The rigidity went out of her posture. She reached across the table toward him, her palm turned up. “And I appreciate that.”
He wrapped his fingers around her small hand, and suddenly the table was far too wide. He wished the Weather Vane Inn had banquette seating so he could pull her up against his side, feel the softness of her, breathe in her scent, and twine his fingers into the shining strands of her hair.
His thoughts must have shown on his face, because a blush climbed her cheeks and she tugged her hand free to fumble open her menu, breaking contact with his gaze to scan the inn’s offerings. He saw her eyebrows go up, and somehow knew she was noticing there were no prices on her menu. For once, she made no comment.
“Would you prefer mine?” he asked, offering it across the table.
“Sometimes ignorance is bliss.” She went back to studying the menu before she closed it. “In keeping with the theme of simplicity, I’m just going to have a salad and a lobster.”
“You have a choice of how many pounds. And butter or some other sauce.”
“No butter. I want to taste the lobster itself. How many pounds are you having?”
“I’d recommend two two-pounders. I think the meat is better in the smaller lobsters.” He was surprised she had asked for his recommendation. She generally had her own ideas about things. “May I choose our beverage?”
She nodded.
The moment he closed his menu, their waiter appeared at the table to take the order before he sent the sommelier over with the wine list. Nathan already knew what he was ordering, partly because he liked it with lobster, and partly because he knew it would horrify Chloe’s thrifty soul. He scanned down the wine list and said, “Bin thirty-three.”
“What’s in bin thirty-three?” she asked after the sommelier left.
“Dom Pérignon. It’s excellent with lobster.” He didn’t add that it was a highly valued vintage. She might refuse to drink it.
All she did was raise her eyebrows at him.
The server brought two empty champagne flutes and placed them on the table. Chloe reached out to twirl hers between her fingertips. “We have to discuss your father’s wedding,” she said, lifting her eyes from the spinning glass. “Now that we’re, you know, dating, you can’t pay me to go.”
She was so matter-of-fact about her desire to earn money that he was curious to find out why she was turning down a substantial paycheck. “We made that deal before we started our relationship, so it still stands.”
She dropped her gaze to her fidgeting fingers. “It would make me feel like someone from an escort service.”
He could see the logic in that. “You’ll still allow me to finance your clothing for the occasion, though. Otherwise I will rescind the invitation.” He wasn’t going to have his father’s shotgun wedding become a burden for Chloe.
Her glass spun out of her fingers, rolling toward the edge of the table. He caught it as it fell and returned it to its place.
She lifted her chin. “I’ll accept only because I don’t want to embarrass you.”
He looked at her with her cloud of shining gold-shot hair swirling around her shoulders, her huge brown eyes glowing in the candlelight, and the soft curves of her lips compressed with stubborn pride. “I would be proud to have you on my arm, no matter what you wore. However, I look forward to taking you shopping.”
“What? You’re going with me?” she squeaked.
He hadn’t intended to until this moment. “I have strong opinions on female attire.”
She snorted inelegantly. “Female lingerie I can believe, but I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t know a Prada from a Pucci.”
“Granted, my expertise runs more to SQL and Python. But I know what I like, and I’d like to watch you model it.”
The line of her lips softened. “You have a company to run.”
“I get a lunch hour like everyone else.”
“Ha! That shows what you know about shopping. It will take more than an hour to find the right outfit for such a special occasion.”
Her look of triumph entertained him. “I can give myself more than an hour for lunch, but I’m not sure I can do the same for you, since you report to Flexitemps.”
“I think Judith would understand.”
“So I can pay you for shopping time?”
She went back to fiddling with her glass. “I’m not sure. I have to think about it.”
The sommelier appeared with the champagne, silently twisting the cork from the bottle before he poured a splash in Nathan’s flute. Nathan tasted it and nodded his approval.
After their glasses were filled and the sommelier departed, Nathan lifted his flute. “To Pucci and Python, a good pairing.”
Chloe looked skeptical until she took a sip of the Dom Pérignon. Her eyelids fluttered closed and he could see her rolling the sparkling wine around in her mouth. He wanted to kiss her so he could taste it on her tongue.
She opened her eyes. “Wow!” She took another drink, her eyes narrowing as she concentrated on the flavor.
“It’s one of my favorites.” He liked being the one who
introduced her to a new taste.
“Don’t tell me what it costs. I want to enjoy it without guilt.”
He put down his glass. “Chloe, what makes you worry about money so much?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so focused on price. It’s a bad habit.” She stared down into the bubbles in her glass.
“Maybe I can help.”
That made her look up. “No.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Will you at least answer my question?”
He could see the debate going on behind her eyes. Finally, she shrugged before taking a gulp of champagne. “My grandmother lives with me. I don’t want her to go into a nursing home, so I’m saving money for the day when I need to hire help for her.”
“I see.” That kind of care was expensive, and she was a temp. No wonder she negotiated for a raise whenever possible. “You continue to impress me.”
“It would be more impressive if I didn’t kill every company I worked for as a permanent employee.”
“Kill?” He let her deflect his praise with the new topic. “Should I be worried about the future of Trainor Electronics?”
“You may be safe. The Russell jinx seems to affect only start-ups. So far Flexitemps is still in business, although I warned Judith when she took me on.”
“Start-ups are notorious for failing, so I don’t think you’re the sole reason they’ve closed down. Why would you work for those if you’re concerned about saving money?”
She hesitated, rearranging the array of forks in front of her as she spoke. “I don’t have any patience with corporate politics. I like to be rewarded for getting my job done well rather than for schmoozing the boss.” She blushed and looked him in the eye, saying, “This is not schmoozing.”
He laughed at her directness. “We are well beyond schmoozing,” he agreed before leaning forward. Her revelations about her work background proved that his original instincts were correct. “I said you were a ringer. Tell me where you’ve worked.”
At that moment the servers arrived, and he caught a look of relief on her face. He quelled the desire to curse and send the waitstaff away so he could unravel more about his intriguing companion.
However, he’d ordered a variety of appetizers before the jet left New Jersey because he wanted Chloe to taste the entire array of deliciously fresh Maine seafood the Weather Vane Inn offered. He wanted to see the moment the flavor burst on her tongue and she focused on it. What he really wanted was to have her lying beside him naked while he fed it all to her with his fingers. A man could use his imagination.
“We’ll never be able to eat all this,” she said, her eyes wide as the waiter placed a large, artfully arranged platter in the center of the table.
“Speak for yourself. I worked up a considerable appetite on my way here.”
She slanted him a warning glance, but the corners of her mouth twitched.
The waiter spoke, gesturing toward each item as he named it. “As you requested, Mr. Trainor, we have included only Maine seafood here. Steamed mussels, scallops, soft-shell clams, mahogany clams, rock crab, and a selection of Damariscotta oysters—including those from Glidden Point, Pemaquid, and Cape Blue.” Nathan got another pointed glance from Chloe at the mention of oysters.
“We are especially fortunate to have two Belons, the rarest oysters in the world, for your tasting pleasure,” the waiter continued. He backed away with a hint of a bow. “Enjoy our sampling.”
“The rarest oysters in the world, eh?” Chloe said, poking at one with the miniature fork the waiter had set down beside her plate. “Does that give them extra powers?” She arched an eyebrow at him.
“They have a powerful flavor, so that might equate to extra potency.” He picked up a Belon in its shell and held it out to her.
She started to take it from him with her hand but he pulled it back. “With your mouth,” he said, wondering if she would do it.
She hesitated only a second and then leaned forward, opening her lips to take in the edge of the shell before she sucked the oyster out of its natural cup and into her mouth like a pro. The whole time she kept her gaze locked on his in deliberate provocation. The sight of her lips pursed around the rough shell sent a fast burn through his body, tightening his cock to rock hardness.
After a couple of chews, she grimaced and swallowed in a labored gulp. “Ugh! It tastes like metal.” She grabbed her water goblet to take a swig before she picked up the other Belon oyster and held it out with a wicked smile. “Your turn.”
The nasty flavor of the oyster lingered on Chloe’s tongue as she dared Nathan to eat the other one. He didn’t hesitate for a second before angling his body in to suck it off the shell. His lips touched her fingers, so she felt the heat and texture of his mouth before he leaned back. Now she understood the flare of intensity she’d seen in his eyes when she took the oyster from him. It was a strangely intimate act to feed someone from your hand.
He chewed the mollusk slowly, his eyes always on her. She watched the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed. “It does have a coppery taste,” he said. “Like eating a computer chip.”
“Just what I want for an appetizer,” Chloe said.
His gaze was still on her as he said, “Now I understand the aphrodisiac properties of oysters. It’s all about how you eat them and with whom.” His voice was husky and low, vibrating through her so she shifted in her chair.
“The good news is that I’m not likely to acquire a taste for rare oysters,” Chloe said, trying to defuse the suddenly charged atmosphere.
“Let’s wash the taste away with a milder flavor,” Nathan said, reaching for another shellfish. Once again he held it out to her.
She had been daring enough to play his game once, but she began to feel self-conscious. “Do you plan to feed me the entire dinner?”
A half smile curled his lips. “I’m considering getting the rest to go.”
Would he really do that? Did she want him to? A vision of Nathan feeding her chunks of lobster from his fingers while they were lying in bed naked danced through her mind.
She slurped the oyster off the shell, barely tasting it before she swallowed. “Does lobster taste different when it’s a mile high?”
CHAPTER 16
Chloe lay in bed, luxuriating in the memories of the night before. Grandmillie went to church every Sunday with the devoutly Catholic family who lived on the next block, so this was Chloe’s private time each week. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling as she remembered the briny taste of the oysters and the crisp, dry bubbles of that amazing champagne.
But the best memories were of Nathan’s hands and mouth and body. Sex on the way to Maine had been wild and explosive. On the way home, they’d taken their time. It turned out the sofa on the company jet folded out into a bed. Nathan claimed he only used it to catch up on sleep while he traveled, but she took that with a grain of salt. However, she refused to worry about the women who had come before her or the women who would come after her.
They had spread the containers of food out on the table beside the sofa bed and started to feed each other, but their appetites had quickly veered in a different direction. She moved restlessly on the sheets as particular moments and sensations floated up from her memory. They’d gotten all their clothes off, and she’d explored the feel of his skin over various muscles, of which he had an impressive supply for a workaholic CEO. She discovered that he swam in a lap pool daily when he wasn’t recuperating from the flu, which gave his back a beautiful ripple when he moved and drew lines of power down his thighs and calves. She wanted to see him wet and glistening as he rose out of the water.
The doorbell ruined her daydream. “Shoot!” she said, bolting out of bed and grabbing her bathrobe.
Pulling the belt tight around her waist, she peered through the sheer curtain that covered the sidelights by her front door. Oskar stood on the porch, holding a vase of tall blue flowers in one hand and a carrying case in the other.
Chloe cou
ld feel the smile curving her lips as she pulled open the door. “Morning, Oskar,” she practically sang. “Come on in.”
The solemn Oskar stepped through the door and cracked a tiny smile. “Mr. Trainor sends his regards.”
“Thank you. Why don’t you put the flowers there?” She pointed to the narrow hall table. It could barely accommodate the large arrangement.
Once he’d placed the flowers, Oskar reached inside his pocket and pulled out an envelope with her name on it. The stationery was the same as the card that had accompanied the chocolates yesterday. He handed it to her before lifting the case in his hand. “This is heavy, so it’s best if I put it on a bigger table.”
As Chloe led him into the dining area, she brushed her fingers over the envelope, knowing Nathan had touched it not long ago. Oskar put the case on the table and gave her a little bow before he strode to the front door. She closed it behind him and ripped open the envelope.
Darling Chloe,
The lupines are the most famous wildflower in Maine. However, I did not raid a roadside patch for these, so your conscience can rest easy.
The rest traveled home with us on the jet. I did my best to keep your attention focused inside the limousine so you didn’t notice the extra containers being loaded in the trunk.
Chloe snorted. They’d been entwined with each other almost from the moment the driver had closed the door. Nathan had brought her to orgasm on the leather seat beside him with his long, clever fingers under her skirt since she refused to bare herself even with the privacy screen raised. The memory sent arousal zinging through her.
I believe the medical community has underestimated the aphrodisiacal powers of oysters. I may convert my lap pool to an oyster bed.
While most people dread Monday morning, I look forward to it with great anticipation. Please give your grandmother my warm regards.
Nathan
Chloe felt like a character in a sappy Hallmark movie, but she couldn’t help herself. She cradled the note against her cheek, trying to feel Nathan’s presence in it. After rereading his line about Monday morning, she walked to the dining room table to see what was in the elegant cardboard case. She flipped open the top flap. Nestled in padded compartments were two bottles of the same Dom Pérignon they’d had with dinner the night before, along with three champagne flutes, also like the ones they’d used at the Weather Vane Inn. Another note was enclosed.
The CEO Buys in (Wager of Hearts #1) Page 17
