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This is a stark contrast to the Frankie who’s been tired and moping around her house for the past week. It’s nice to know that she feels my absence as greatly as I feel hers. “There may have been eyeliner involved for a brief period, but that’s all you get.”
“Thanks. I can picture it clearly,” she says, closing her eyes with a sweet smile. “Please tell me that’s done because I can’t take the aroma of that chicken anymore!”
I lift the lid to poke a thigh and declare, “It’s done.” We work together for the next few minutes to get dinner on the table. It feels domestic, as if this isn’t the first time we’ve done this.
She views the romantic setting, and her eyes widen. “Wow, this is impressive, Damien.”
“Right?” I pull her chair out, and her smile grows brighter. “I’m kind of an impressive guy.”
“Modest, too,” she adds with a laugh.
“Modesty is overrated. If I ask you about your detective skills, I’d hope you’d say you’re good, possibly one of the best. Because it’s true.” The smile she gives me is playful, and I know my words are getting me closer to where I need to be with this woman.
Instead of answering, she digs into the coq au vin and mashed potatoes. She spears a glazed carrot, eating with a softly erotic moan. “Damien, this is seriously good.” She lets out another moan and her eyes roll back in her head. “Damn.”
I laugh. “So, I’m forgiven?”
She freezes with a forkful of mashed potatoes halfway to her mouth. “Oh, I see,” she says, her brown eyes dancing with amusement. “Is this your sex meal?”
I laugh. “My what?”
“Sex meal,” she says, grinning. “The meal you cook when it’s time to get naked.”
She’s curious about me. Another good sign. “I don’t have a sex meal, Francesca.”
Her lips pull together into a pout, her brows lifting in disbelief. “Oh, come on. You’ve never done it?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “Because I don’t cook for women. Until today.”
“What? Why the hell not? You’re an incredible cook.”
I shrug. “It gives women the wrong impression.” It’s a lesson I learned the hard way shortly after making my first billion, but well before that, if I’m being honest. “I just don’t need the headache.”
“And what impression should I glean from this delicious meal?” she asks before taking another bite. “Because damn, I can see why you don’t do this for every woman you date.”
My smile widens, genuinely amused. Her words send a rush of warmth through me I haven’t felt in forever. “You should glean that I want to know more about you. What you like, what you love. What pisses you off. All of it.”
“So, you want my secrets?” she questions playfully.
“And if I do?” This is the moment of truth, whether she’ll trust me or keep me at arm’s length.
“If you do, this is a good start. Ignoring me for a week, however, is not.”
“Message received.” Even though I know where this is headed, I like her. She’s more intriguing than any other woman I’ve known. There’s strength and confidence about her that pulls me in like a magnet. It’s why I’m here tonight. “It wasn’t my intention to ignore you,” I lie easily.
She waves me off. “Consider that your one pass, Damien. Anymore, and I’m out, no matter how charming you are.” She points her fork at me to make sure I understand she’s serious.
“Got it, but you definitely underestimate just how charming I can be.” I give her a slow and seductive smile, and the way her eyes glaze over is like a fucking aphrodisiac I feel all the way down to my bones.
Francesca sits back, staring at me with her head tilting to the side and a slow smile forming on her lips. “Believe me, it’s not possible. It’s coming out of your pores. It wafts off you like a second skin.”
Her words make me laugh, and that shocks me more than anything. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”
“Welcome to the club.”
I lick my lips and lean forward in full seduction mode. “Any club you’re in is one I want to belong to, Frankie.”
She laughs, but her eyes are full of heat. “See, too much fucking charm. It really is ridiculous, you know.” Her smile is playful, and she’s not put off by my charm, though she’s not completely sold on it either.
