Chapter 9 #3
The look he gave me could have melted steel. “No,” he said quietly. “It wouldn’t.”
A waiter appeared with dessert menus, and I seized on the distraction like a drowning woman grabbing a life preserver.
“The crème br?lée is our specialty,” the waiter suggested.
“Victoria doesn’t eat dessert,” Jason said automatically, then paused, looking at me questioningly.
I met his challenge with a grin. “Victoria’s making new choices. Two crème br?lées, please.”
After the waiter left, Jason leaned back in his chair, loosening his tie slightly. The gesture shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was. “New choices?”
“Why not? Life’s too short for sad lettuce and no dessert.”
“And what other new choices are you planning to make?” The way he asked it made my toes curl in my designer heels.
I was saved from answering by the arrival of the desserts—delicate vanilla custard topped with a perfectly caramelized sugar crust that cracked satisfyingly under my spoon. The first bite was… well, if the pasta was a religious experience, this was straight-up salvation.
“Oh my God,” I breathed, closing my eyes in bliss.
When I opened them, Jason was watching me with an expression that had nothing to do with dessert and everything to do with the way my pulse was suddenly racing.
“You have…” He reached across again, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth. “A bit of caramel…”
This time, his touch lingered. This time, neither of us pretended it was about sauce or chocolate or anything except the electricity crackling between us.
“Jason,” I whispered, not even sure what I was going to say.
His phone buzzed, shattering the moment. Of course it did. Because this wasn’t supposed to be happening. He wasn’t supposed to be looking at his wife like that. He wasn’t supposed to be making my heart race and my skin tingle and my brain forget every single reason why this was a terrible idea.
He checked the message, his jaw tightening slightly. “The board wants to reconvene about the green initiative. Apparently, your passionate speech this morning made quite an impression.”
Right. Because I’d stormed into a board meeting and basically declared war on fossil fuels. Because I couldn’t just stick to the script. Because I was absolutely, completely, thoroughly messing up this story.
But you know what? If derailing the plot meant preventing that future, if my impromptu environmental talk could save the company and spare Jason that pain, then I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Maybe with fewer marker-waving theatrics next time, but still.
And maybe next time I’d remember to breathe between renewable energy statistics.
But watching Jason’s company thrive instead of crumble?
Worth every mortifying moment of my passionate performance.
“I should get back,” he said, but he didn’t move. “Unless…”
“Unless?”
His eyes met mine, dark and intense. “Unless you’d like to join me? Show them the same passion you did this morning?”
Oh, that was not a good choice of words. Not with the way he was looking at me. Not with the chocolate still tingling on my lips where he’d touched them.
“I…” My brain was short-circuiting between yes, please and this is a terrible idea. “I should probably let you handle the board. You know, before I call them dinosaurs again.”
His laugh drew more attention from nearby tables. A woman was definitely recording us now, probably unable to believe that Ice Queen Victoria and her supposedly distant husband were actually enjoying lunch together.
“I rather enjoyed your dinosaur comparison,” he said, signaling for the check. “Especially the part about them being extinct for a reason.”
“Yes, well, apparently I’ve developed a concerning lack of filter between my brain and my mouth today.”
“I like it,” he said, his voice dropping to that dangerous register again. “I like not knowing what you’re going to say next. What you’re going to do next.”
The way he said it made me wonder if he was thinking about that kiss this morning in the penthouse. I was definitely thinking about it. Along with the way his hands looked on the steering wheel, how his sleeves were still rolled up, and…
The check arrived in a leather folder. Jason didn’t even look at it before sliding in a black card that practically radiated wealth.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “For lunch. For…” For looking at me like I’m worth looking at. For making me forget, just for a moment, that I’m only temporarily in Victoria’s life.
“Thank you,” he countered, standing and offering his hand to help me up, “for surprising me.”
His hand was warm, strong, sending tingles up my arm. He didn’t let go immediately, and I found myself swaying slightly toward him, like he had his own gravitational pull.
More phones were definitely recording now. Tomorrow’s society pages were going to have a field day with this—Victoria Everett in an unknown designer’s outfit, actually eating carbs, looking at her husband like…
“Victoria?” His thumb brushed across my knuckles, sending another wave of tingles up my arm. “Ready to go?”
No. Yes. Maybe. Define ready. Because I was pretty sure nothing in my previous life as a waitress, or in my current life as a body-snatching romance novel character, had prepared me for playing this role.
Especially when Jason kept looking at me like that, making it harder to remember I was just a temporary visitor in Victoria’s perfectly curated life.