order for me?”
“If you wish,” he said.
“I trust you. Surprise me.”
It turned out to be the right choice. Spencer didn’t disappoint and he seemed to take his role in helping me search for my as-of-yet undiscovered favorite food very seriously. First, he ordered oysters on the half shell, which tasted like the ocean on my tongue. Then Foie Gras, which I had serious reservations about, but was surprised to find rich and delicious. Spencer watched me take every bite without much commentary. Instead, there was a sort of quiet contentment that overtook him. I had never seen him like this before. When our main courses arrived, I took a bite of veal and moaned. The dish had been new to the menu but Spencer was certain I would like it. He wasn’t wrong.
“You have to try this,” I said, spearing another bite on my fork and holding it out to him.
Spencer brought his perfect mouth to my fork and slid it off with his teeth, a hungry look in his eyes that had nothing to do with the food or the restaurant. He chewed slowly, his eyes hooded and he groaned a little. “Delicious.”
I looked down at my plate, feeling heat spreading across my chest and up my neck toward my face. The glimpse of what he looked like when he was experiencing pleasure sent my pulse rocketing. I wanted to see that face again. I wanted to be what made him make that noise.
“Try mine,” he commanded, holding out a bite of his filet.
Our eyes locked as I slid it off his fork with my mouth, and a vein ticked in his neck. I was reminded of the dreams I’d had the night before. Like those, I felt keyed up with no relief in sight. Every word, every moment that passed between us seemed to ratchet my desire up a notch while taking me farther away from what I really wanted.
Him.
There was no denying that the music and the wine, the food and the flowers all conspired to remind me that the one thing I wanted wasn’t on the menu.
Spencer’s hand brushed over mine. “Would you like another bottle?”
I shook my head. Any more and I might get drunk. I wanted to be present every moment I spent with him, especially if he kissed me.
“Kerrigan, come—”
“Would you like to see the dessert cart?” Our waitress interrupted us, and I resisted the urge to throttle her for her poor timing.
Spencer inclined his head. “Shall we?”
“I think I’m finished.” I drained my wine glass to prove it.
“The check, please.” He reached into his pocket and produced a money clip, straining to hold the stack of pound notes folded between its prongs. I waited for him to return to what he was about to say before we were interrupted, but he seemed to have forgotten.
I sucked in a breath, almost wishing I had opted for at least one more glass of wine and decided to make the first move. “Spencer.”
“Yes?” he asked, drawing out a hundred-pound note, which was followed by four more.
I watched, realizing what different worlds we were from, and that he didn’t even know it. He had no idea that I’d never eaten french food or tried veal or sat next to a fire with a man at a romantic dinner. He never would know that he’d just given me so many firsts that I’d lost count. Maybe he was simply following the prescribed courtship rituals of society, and I was the one caught up in the romance, dazzled by the candlelight. And somehow, none of it mattered. I knew what I wanted next—what I wanted more than anything. “Take me to bed.”
Chapter Nineteen
Spencer’s hand moved to his tie and he tugged at it, a silent battle being waged in his eyes. “Are you sure? We don’t have to move this fast.”
“I’m asking you to sleep with me, not marry me,” I told him, taking his hand in mine.
He raised his eyebrows. “Now you don’t want to marry me?”
I opened my mouth to protest, wondering how I’d managed to fail so spectacularly at my seduction attempt.
“I’m fucking with you,” he said before I could mount my defense. “I think we need to have a sense of humor about this arranged marriage thing. It will keep us both sane. To be clear, I want to take you to bed, and, as far, as marriage…”
I nodded, narrowing my eyes and staring directly at him. “Kiss me. Fuck me. Marry me. Just