Chapter 11 #2
Soraya pursed her lips. She should have approached him sooner, but she shook her head because she wasn’t looking for sex tonight. She just wanted to dress up and treat herself to something nice. Mostly.
“I wish to be alone,” the handsome stranger replied firmly, disengaging her clawed fingertips from his arm. Reluctantly, she stepped back.
The woman sent a pout his way but shrugged her thin shoulders and smiled. “Whatever you want, love. But you can find me in the garden if you get lonely.” She cast over her shoulder before sauntering away.
Sighing, the man rubbed his temple.
“Here you are, my Amir. Alta rouge with a side of herbed vegetables.” The server set the plate in front of him, bowed, and then swiftly exited through the double doors that more than likely led to the kitchen.
Soraya tried to catch the server before he completely disappeared, but she missed her chance, and her stomach was not happy with her for it.
She would have thought this place had excellent customer service, given the whole performance the waiter put on for the handsome stranger. But, he utterly ignored her as he returned from where all the delicious aromas drifted from, so some points were knocked off.
Side-eyeing the handsome stranger’s plate, she spied a beautifully prepared dish: white meat with a shimmering brown glaze poured over the top, steaming on a bed of roasted golden potatoes and greens, accompanied by a magnificent, fluffy piece of grainy bread with butter melting off the sides.
She swallowed as her stomach growled loudly—VERY—loudly. Embarrassed, she looked down at the countertop in front of her. She didn’t think the handsome stranger could hear her stomach, but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him tilt his head her way.
She watched out of her peripheral vision as he hesitated with his fork. “Excuse me, my lady,” he said.
Surprised, she darted her eyes to the right to see who he was addressing.
Who the hell addresses women these days with ‘my lady’? She thought for a second, before recalling that two men had called her just that.
She secretly kind of liked it. The honorific was beginning to grow on her.
Huffing out a breath that sounded a lot like a laugh, he continued, “I can hear your stomach, my lady. Do you wish for me to get you the server?”
Finally turning to face him, she wasn’t prepared to be assaulted by his classic beauty. His strong brow, full lips, and dark eyes captivated her. His hair was perfectly swept over, and he looked…well…he looked appetizing.
She swallowed and shook her head, realizing she needed to respond like an adult. “No, thank you. I was just about to leave.” She mentally kicked herself as the words left her mouth. She was never the one to run off scared—she blamed her empty stomach for her cowardice.
Raising a single eyebrow, he remarked, “You just arrived, my lady. Does the food not look appetizing to your fine palate? Or is the cuisine not as good as the Dovecote’s?”
Feeling heat on her cheeks, she shook her head again, her hair moving like a thick curtain around her, tickling her arms. “No, that’s—” she let out a short, quick laugh to steady her nerves.
“I’m just not sure what to order.” Or what the Dovecote was.
Then, finding her courage, she asked, “May I try some of yours?” She gestured to his plate.
Amused, he silently slid his plate over, not completely to her, but enough to indicate that if she wanted to try some, she would have to come closer to get a taste.
Doing just that, she moved one seat over and sat next to him. She could feel his body heat warming her side; he offered her the fork on the tips of his fingers.
Tentatively, she grabbed it and smiled gratefully at him before turning her attention to the plate of luxurious food.
Her mouth immediately watered in anticipation. She heard him chuckling under his breath, but ignored him as she cut into the soft white meat with the fork and swirled it around the brown opaque sauce at the bottom of the plate.
He hummed in approval, making her unconsciously shift on the stool.
Bringing the food to her mouth, she took her first bite—
Flavor exploded in her mouth, and her eyes widened.
The tender meat, which reminded her of fish, melted like butter, and the spicy, savory taste of the sauce blended into absolute perfection.
She couldn’t help but moan. She failed to notice the handsome man beside her going completely quiet as she began to skewer the veggies and little golden potatoes, all but shoveling them into her mouth.
Soraya had never tasted something so flavorful, so decadent, in her life.
She had never been a foodie, but for food like this, she could be.
She was halfway through the plate when she realized…it wasn’t hers. Sheepishly, she swallowed her bite and was about to put down the fork when he commanded, “Keep eating.”
Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she saw the serious look on his face. When his gaze shifted from her mouth to her eyes, he nodded and said a tad bit softly, “Please, enjoy yourself, beautiful.”
Something inside her—pride more than likely—reared its head and told her to unhand the fork, but her stomach—clearly the louder voice—said to eat it all.
And so she did.
After finishing, she wanted to pick up the plate and lap at the sauce left behind, but decided against it. She was wearing an elegant dress; she couldn’t act like a complete heathen in it.
Turning to look at him, she nodded her head. “It was delicious, thank you.”
Without a word, he reached out his hand and delicately swiped at some sauce in the corner of her mouth with the pad of his finger.
Blushing, she cleared her throat. “What do I owe you for the meal?”
“Your name,” he said without hesitation.
Looking into his dark brown eyes, she hesitated only for a moment before replying, “Soraya.”
He stood, towering over her. Offering her his hand, he rumbled, “Lestis. Would you care to join me for dinner?”
She raised a brow, a quirked smile on her lips. “I just ate dinner.” With a dramatic sigh, she continued while batting her eyelashes, “But I guess I can accompany you for yours—and I promise not to eat it this time. And if you plan on ordering dessert, I wouldn’t mind staying around for that, too.”
He gave her a slow, sensual smile. “I wouldn’t mind sharing my food with you, Soraya. And it would be my pleasure to treat you to dessert?”
Well…how was she supposed to say no to that?
She took his hand.