Chapter 17 #2
His nostrils flare as if angry with himself that he feels this way about me, and I can’t help but think that it must annoy him that I came into his life and changed things for him.
Everyone in the office knows he doesn’t date.
As if time stops, my heart slows and I inhale a slow breath when the contrast and power behind his words don’t match the soft kiss he places on my lips. The butterflies that are fluttering in my lower belly take on a life of their own, making my stomach feel like it’s doing cartwheels.
“I’ll think about your invitation to the ball.” I finally manage to form words.
He grins as if I just threw him a lifeline. “Thank you, and take your time. It’s not a date, Arianna, you’d be coming as my secretary.” It feels like he just poured ice down my spine, because for a fleeting minute there I thought he was asking me to go as his date.
I slide sideways out of his hold. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Before I’ve even taken a full step, his firm hand wraps around my wrist, holding me hostage, and I can’t look back because I’ll cave if I do and say yes to him, but I want to make him sweat a little longer.
I leave on parting words. “I promise, I’ll think about your invitation.”
Why am I even entertaining this?
He releases me and when he replies I barely hear it. “Please say yes.”
I stay quiet and walk across the scattered paperwork.
This must be what it feels like to be caught between heaven and hell.
I’m stuck between truth and lies.
“Come out for dinner with me tonight?” His words stop me in my tracks, and I turn to face him.
“You want to take me out for dinner?” I ask, poking my chest with my pointer finger, completely baffled.
What’s with all the confessions and the want to woo me all of a sudden?
What changed?
I look down at the scattered paperwork. I can’t believe I was about to leave it like this. His admission has my head feeling like a cyclone is whirling through it.
There isn’t a damn thing you could say to keep me away from you.
This is big.
Big, big.
Huge.
He runs his hand over his scruff, and while his words might sound confident, there’s an air of uncertainty in his facial expression when he scratches his beard a bit too hard then glances sideways before looking back at me again. “It’s just dinner. Not a date,” he confirms.
“Just dinner?”
“Yes, it’s getting late. You didn’t stop for lunch, Arianna. You need to eat.”
Paying attention to me seems to have become his new hobby. Same for me too when it comes to him.
When will we give in to the increasing daily tension that is building between us? Does anyone in the office see or feel it, too? They must, because my heart can’t take any more. The rapid increase in my pulse is beating with a force large enough to cause an explosion.
It’s a date and he knows it, which intrigues me.
“Okay. Just dinner.”
“Jenkins will take you home.”
“Perfect.” I bend down to pick up the still scattered paperwork all over the floor. “Where are we going?”
“The Orchid Dome.”
Crouched down, startled by his reply, I look up to find him watching me. “The Orchid Dome?” Isn’t that the place to go to be seen? It’s the most upscale restaurant experience in the city.
It’s definitely a date.
Nathan runs his tongue along his teeth, knowing I can see right through him. He knows I know this is more than dinner.
“Do you have a problem with my choice of restaurant?” he asks, lifting his jaw slightly higher.
“No,” I squeak.
In fact, I’m so excited my stomach’s doing a giddy dance. I’ve never been before. One, because it’s way out of my budget, and two, you need to book several months in advance to reserve a table. “Will we get a table?” I ask.
“Of course.” He pulls his phone from his back pocket.
Before I’ve shuffled the papers into a neat pile, which I’ll file properly tomorrow, he announces, “Done.”
“Just like that?” Oh, to be as powerful as Nathaniel Hart.
The puller of strings. Or at least that’s certainly how I feel around him.
Like he’s the puppet master and I’m a marionette, I gladly give in too often to him operating me and wouldn’t complain if he used me like a glove puppet…
The things that man can do with his fingers.
“Arianna, did you hear me?” I’m drawn out of my memories of our night together.
“Sorry?”
“I said, yes, just like that.” His gaze drops to my lips, causing me to touch them and him to add, “I ruined your lipstick.”
What I wouldn’t give for him to ruin me again.
I toss my morals onto the fire and hear them sizzle in my ears.
“Meet me in the foyer. You have ten minutes to freshen up, Arianna.”
“I’ll be ready in five,” I retort, feeling snarky and standing to my full height. “And I might just like the thought of you ruining my lipstick again.” My declaration tumbles out my mouth faster than I can catch it and I gasp, making his mouth lift at the corners.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Arianna.” Pride fills his chest, and somehow he appears broader as he strides past me.
“Forget I said that.”
“Not a chance.”