Page 19 of Do It With Me

8

HOLDEN

Ispotted her the second she stepped through the restaurant doors. The picture she’d sent me of herself in that dress had been pretty, cute even, but it hadn’t prepared me for the reality. Because the reality of her wrapped in hunter green silk, every curve packaged like a gift for me to unwrap, was mind-altering.

The sight of her when she appeared in the doorway made my throat go dry and my slacks go tight. She was breathtaking, her hair hanging in soft spiral curls around her shoulders and her makeup understated but perfect.

Fucking hell.

I stood automatically, tugging at my collar in an attempt to make it easier to breathe. It didn’t really work, specifically because she’d spotted me now too and she was striding toward me with a nervous but genuine smile on her lips.

Something low and much too familiar rolled through me. Something I definitely should not have been feeling about a student, but right now, she didn’t feel like that same girl who’d showed up on the first day looking like she’d gotten lost on her way to a garage band audition.

She looked like a capable, sophisticated woman but not in that sharp-edged way I was used to. That was what was so attractive about her to me, the fact that she could look capable and sophisticated but also still soft and innocent.

“Ellora,” I said when she reached me, my voice coming out lower than it should’ve. “You look great.”

Unbelievable. Incredible. Stunning.

“Thanks.” She flashed me a shy smile, cheeks flushing. She held my gaze for another beat before looking away to take in the intricate chandeliers overhead and the starched white tablecloths, candles flickering between glass vases on each table. “This place is just wow. It’s not quite the type of restaurant where I usually eat dinner.”

“Were you expecting a diner or something?” I asked, walking around to pull out a chair for her. “We don’t have to stay here if it makes you uncomfortable. I just figured a dress like that deserved a proper night out.”

“I’m fine. It’s a lovely restaurant. It’s just, uh, not what I’m used to.” She lowered herself carefully into the chair but leaned over across the table as soon as I settled back in my own seat.

Peering up at me through those long lashes, she seemed uncertain. Maybe even a little bit intimidated, her voice a furious whisper as she gave me a pointed look. “You said there wasn’t going to be anything romantic about this arrangement. This place is pretty darn romantic if you ask me.”

“It’s just dinner,” I said, but it felt like a lie. Even to me. “It’s the candles. Ignore them. For us, it’s just a casual meal between colleagues, right?”

“Colleagues,” she repeated, her mouth quirking like she didn’t quite buy it. “I don’t know much about how things are done at your company, but this sure doesn’t seem like the kind of restaurant colleagues usually share a meal at.”

I handed her a menu, trying to focus on anything other than the way the candlelight gleamed off her bare shoulder. “At my company, we do whatever it takes. Whatever a situation calls for. So here we are.”

“Here we are,” she repeated slowly, opening the menu. Her eyes widened and she quickly shut it again after just a glance. “You can order for me. At those prices, I’m happy with tap water, but I don’t have any allergies and I’ll eat anything but organs.”

“Anything but organs, huh? That’s pretty specific. See? We’re already learning things about each other.”

Her green gaze held mine with curiosity as well as a healthy dose of trepidation in it. “I suppose we are, but yeah. Organs. Heart. Liver. Lungs. Tongue. I can’t do any of those.”

I nodded and shrugged. “To be honest, it shouldn’t be too hard to avoid all those. I don’t even think they’ve got any on the menu, but how do you feel about pasta? The chef here makes an incredible lasagna.”

“Lasagna?” She blinked a few times before taking another quick look around. “I didn’t realize they’d serve something so hearty at a place like this. I thought they’d only do tiny, pretty foods.”

I chuckled. “They do that too, but Marco studied in Italy and he insists that no menu is complete without an amazing lasagna.”

“You’re on a first name basis with the chef?” Her mouth twitched into a weirdly amused smile. “Actually, don’t answer that. Of course you are, but okay. Let’s get down to business, then. What else would you like to know about me?”

“We don’t have to learn everything about each other, but since we’re about to pretend to be a couple in front of a few hundred people, it might help to cover the basics.”

“Like what?” she asked.

I shrugged and leaned back. “Favorite color. Family. What you do for fun when you’re not taking night classes or moonlighting as a fake girlfriend?”

She laughed, and the sound was so soft and surprised that it wrapped around my insides like warm honey. “The boring stuff, huh? Alright. I doubt anyone is going to ask you about my favorite color, but if I had to pick one, it’d be yellow.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s bright and happy.” She studied me for a moment. “Let me guess. Yours is something serious, like gray or brown.”