He touched my cheek lightly. "To echo Ilianna, be careful."
I smiled and climbed out. Once he'd pulled away, I took another deep breath that didn't do a damn thing to settle the butterflies in my stomach, then turned and walked into Wintergreen. The restaurant was small and intimate in feel. A big open fire dominated one wall, and the exposed bricks on either side were lined with aging photographs of Melbourne. Old wooden tables and plush leather chairs were scattered throughout the rest of the room, with plenty of space between each setting. Candles flickered warmly in the middle of the tables; the only other light came from the low glow of the electric wall sconces.
My gaze swept the shadows, then halted as I saw him. He was at a table in the far corner sipping a glass of wine, but suddenly looked up, as if he'd felt the weight of my gaze. The slow smile that stretched his lips sent the butterflies flopping.
I didn't even notice the maître d' approaching, and jumped a little as he said, "May I help you?"
"I'm with that gentlemen over there," I said softly, nodding in Lucian's direction.
"Of course, ma'am. This way, please."
I followed him through the maze of tables and diners, my gaze on Lucian's, watching the warmth of his smile stretch to the jade of his eyes, then become something a whole lot more as his gaze flowed down my body.
He rose as the maître d' pulled out my chair, then caught my hand and brushed the lightest of kisses across my fingertips. My whole body quivered—and not just from that kiss, but from the heated closeness of him. I licked my lips, wondering again if he was enhancing my reaction to him.
"I'm so glad you were able to make it," he said, his voice low but powerful. "I was worried you might have had second thoughts."
He waited until I was seated before sitting back down himself. His scent flowed around me—an enticing mix of lemongrass, suede, and musky, powerful male.
I smiled as I placed my purse to one side. "If I was going to say no, I would have done so when you first asked me out."
Mischief gleamed in his eyes, but he didn't say anything as a waiter approached. "Wine, madam?"
"It's a very fine Riesling," Lucian commented. "Not too sweet, not too dry."
"Sounds good." The waiter filled the glass. I took a sip, savoring the delicate fruity flavors and lingering acidity as I studied Lucian over the rim of the glass. "Thank you again for coming to my rescue this afternoon."
"As I said at the time, I could hardly let those men assault such a lovely lady." Amusement flared in his eyes. "Of course, it turned out the lovely young lady was more than capable of taking care of herself."