Chapter 22

NICOLETTE

I had no choice but to accept his invitation. I truly believed that. I also believed I was hungry and would love a free meal.

He called over a waiter while I put the folder into my briefcase. He then proceeded to order the gourmet tasting menu for two, sparkling wine, and chocolate cherry cake for dessert.

I was thoroughly incensed at his not asking me what I wanted, and I tried to convey that through my eyes when the waiter took the menu back and walked away.

Mr. Andretti got my message. “Oh, come now. Don’t look at me that way. I come here a lot and I know what’s good.” He gave me a sickly sweet smile. “You’ll love it. I promise.”

I glowered at him but then let it go. It was ~gourmet~ food, after all. I just hoped it was expensive.

The waiter came back with the wine and began opening the bottle at the table.

“Mr. Andretti, what was this other matter you wanted to discuss?”

The cork popped and I jumped in my seat. The waiter apologized and poured us each a glass, putting the rest on ice, then left.

“We’ll talk about that later.” He grabbed his glass and motioned to mine. “Let us toast first.” He raised his glass.

I picked mine up and raised it. “Toast to what? Inconclusive business?” I smiled so he knew I was joking. But the smile was also for me.

Ever since meeting this man, I’d felt nothing but discomfort. Damien had said he was a hunter, but Mr. Andretti felt like a predator. The way he looked at me… I couldn’t relax.

“To new ventures,” he said. “And adventures.” He gave me a cryptic smile.

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I toasted anyways. “To new adventures.” I finished the glass, hoping it would ease the anxiety. When I finished, he was staring at me and smiling.

“A woman after my own heart.” He looked at my glass, then grabbed the bottle and topped me up. To the rim.

Wine was a bad idea. It wouldn’t help. Eating as fast as possible and leaving would help. I decided not to drink more.

“So, this other matter. Does it have to do with the adventure in your toast?” I asked.

“Yes, it does,” he said. Then he told me about an expedition he was organizing in Brazil, in the Amazon. He said ruins had been found that belonged to a pre-Columbian civilization.

He wanted me to oversee the excavation of these ruins and to identify and catalogue all artifacts found, looking in particular, of course, for mirrors.

It was an offer I couldn’t refuse. And I’d always dreamed of going to Brazil, where my parents first met.

I was lost for words, but luckily the food came just after he finished his pitch.

The dishes absolutely looked gourmet. Not only because of the exquisite presentation of each one but because of their size. Everything was bite sized.

~Great, this will go fast~, I thought as I grabbed a pasta dish. “Could you give me the finer details about this expedition?”

All the pasta fit into one spoonful, and I popped it into my mouth. When I looked up, Mr. Andretti was staring at me.

“And? How is it?” He eagerly awaited my answer, as if he’d cooked it himself.

I dabbed my face with my napkin and said, “It’s very good. You chose well.”

His face beamed with pride and he began to eat.

He then went into the finer points of the expedition, in between bites, but a scent caught my attention. I felt a breeze behind me, and the smell wafted with it.

I looked to my left, and there was nothing there. Then I looked right and saw that a man had just passed me, a man with a great ass. My heart began to race as I watched him walk.

I would recognize that ass anywhere.

Darien sat at a table behind and to the right of ours. Mr. Andretti couldn’t see him, but I could. He looked as sexy as ever, but he didn’t look happy.

I couldn’t look away from his iceberg stare. I got goosebumps.

Mr. Andretti touched my arm. “Ms. Holland, you’re cold. Would you like my jacket?”

I looked at him. “Huh?” Then I looked at his hand on my arm. I pulled it away at once. “Oh, no. Thank you. It happens sometimes when I eat.” I rubbed my arms, forcing the bumps away.

Oblivious to my prior distraction, he continued detailing the expedition.

My eyes couldn’t help but to go back to Darien. His dark gaze was steady on me, and he took a drink from his wine. Then his tongue darted out to lick under his lip. Like it had that night.

A rush of warmth flooded my face as I brought up that memory. And the memory of what had happened just before. I felt a jolt between my legs, a spark of arousal. I crossed them under the table.

Actually, I needed a cold shower. “Mr. Andretti, would you please excuse me? I need the washroom.”

Mr. Andretti tipped his glass to me and perched his elbow on the table. “Don’t stay there long, Ms. Holland.”

I nodded as I grabbed my purse, got up, and quickly walked out of the dining area. Darien’s eyes burned a hole in my back the whole way. Maybe Mr. Andretti’s did too.

I sank into the restroom’s love seat and let out a long sigh, closing my eyes and counting to twenty before I opened them again. I wondered if my life would ever be normal again.

What was Darien playing at? Was he angry? Jealous? Why did he just sit there? How did he even find me?

Then his words flashed through my mind: ~“When one is a multibillionaire, my sweet, everything is delivered on a golden platter.” ~And that was enough to set me straight.

I got up and went to the mirror—careful not to touch it. I patted my face with a damp cloth and straightened my clothes. I walked to the door with a firm resolve, ready for whatever Darien threw at me next.

What I wasn’t ready for was the man waiting for me just outside the door.

“Excuse me, madame,” he said, bowing his head low. He wore a black nondescript suit, and I could see a name tag. ~Gordon~ was on it. And under it was ~Manager~.

“Yes?” I said, clutching my purse firmly.

“I was told to usher you out of the restaurant as soon as possible.” With a bob of his head, he motioned to an exit near the restroom, then lifted an arm up as if to guide me there.

“Huh? Why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s for your safety, madame. Please come with me.” He brought his other arm around me and pressed on my lower back, lightly pushing me to the exit.

I crossed the threshold of the exit door but stopped midway and turned around. “But my briefcase, my companion—”

“He will be informed.” The man turned me around. “And your briefcase will be delivered to your office.”

When we were both through, he closed the door. “This way, please,” he beckoned.

I had no choice but to follow, as the stairs only went up and the door had no handle on this side.

There was only one flight of stairs leading to one door. And it opened into another penthouse suite. But this one blew Darien’s clear out of the water.

Directly in front of me, in the middle of the suite, was a beautiful Japanese garden surrounded by glass walls.

My feet continued to follow him as we went through the garden, passing a koi pond on the way. He then led me to a plant-filled terrace with a spectacular view of the Statue of Liberty.

“Satisfactory, Gordon. I’ll take it from here,” Darien said.

I whipped my head to face him. I should have known this was his doing. Maybe a part of me did know. And that’s why I hadn’t resisted more.

And there he stood a yard away, in all his glory, leaning against the railing.

Like the king he was.