reputation for being a difficult place to get reservations for. However, the hostess immediately guided them to one of their best tables.
When the waiter arrived with menus, Anthony immediately asked for their best bottle of Batasiolo Barolo. After the waiter departed, Claire began to look at the menu. She couldn’t help notice there were no prices. What did that mean? When she looked up from behind the large leather-bound folder, Anthony was looking at her, not his menu. Once again, Claire felt her cheeks flush. “Do you already know what you want?” she asked.
“I believe I do.” He reached for her menu. Claire released it, although she hadn’t had a chance to really see her choices. The whole “no price” thing had her a little be muffled. “And I can’t see you behind that big menu.” Claire smiled. She’d never met a man like Anthony. She felt like she had his full attention, and it was nice but unsettling. When the waiter returned with the wine, he poured a small amount into a glass. Anthony tasted the liquid and replied, “Ahh, yes.” The waiter poured two glasses.
Claire wondered if this was what people talked about on a cruise ship with amazing service. Goodness knows no one was treated like this at the Red Wing or Applebee’s for that matter. Before she realized what happened, Anthony ordered dinner. “Well, thank you.” Her tone was tentative.
“Do you not like Caesar salad and shrimp linguine?” he asked, dismayed.
“Oh, I do. I just have never had anyone order for me without asking me my preference.” Claire thought to herself, But then again, I have never met anyone like you.
The tips of his lips moved upward, and his eyes shone. “If you do not like your food, we can certainly send it back for something else.”
She did like the food. As soon as the linguine arrived at the table and the aroma of garlic and butter penetrated her senses, she knew the taste would be even better. When the shrimp touched her tongue, she relished the seasoned flavor. Anthony was incredibly charming and polite. After dinner, as they waited for the valet, he gently placed his arm around her waist. He was much taller than she realized at the Red Wing. Leaning down to her ear, he whispered, “May I kiss you?”
Feeling the unstoppable sensation of his stare, Claire only nodded. As his lips touched hers, they were soft and full. Momentarily, she felt the rest of the world disappear. It ended too soon. When he pulled away from the contact, Anthony smiled, and Claire felt her cheeks flush. Once they were back in the car, he asked, “Are you ready to go back to the Red Wing, or should I take you to your home?” Claire contemplated her options. He offered her a third alternative. “Or would you like to join me in my suite, perhaps for some more wine, or we could call room service for dessert?”
Smiling, she responded, “I like dessert.”
The hotel’s foyer was exquisite—marble floors, large glowing chandeliers, and huge floral arrangements. Claire tried not to look around. She’d never entered such an exclusive establishment. His suite at the Ritz Carlton was large like an apartment, and once inside, he remained suave and sensual. His eyes were deep. They gave her the sensation of chocolate, dark and melted. Although she didn’t know him that well, she agreed to romance and sexual pleasures. He was romantic and attentive. There was something about him that made her break all her own rules.
It was after midnight when Claire lifted her head to meet Anthony’s now milk-chocolate eyes. “I really need to get back to my place.” Claire had enjoyed the soft 700-count sheets too much. “I don’t want to disturb you, so I can get a taxi downstairs.” She started to shift away, when he gently reached for her.
“If I promise you a ride in the morning, would you consider some more dessert?” Anthony’s expression as well as another of his features informed Claire that he wanted her to choose the dessert. She knew she wasn’t scheduled to be at work at all the next day.
“I don’t want to disrupt your schedule. I am sure you are busy.”
“I promise this is not a disruption. And maybe after more dessert, we could have another glass of wine. There is still some in the bottle from room service.” The last time she looked at a clock; it was 1:15 a.m. Even at that moment, Claire didn’t