Page 169 of Claimed At First Sight

“Yes, the whole building, actually.”

I stare at him. Honestly, why am I surprised?

Maximo Marco probably collects skyscrapers the way normal people collect watches.

Daniel comes to a stop at a secluded spot overlooking the river. “Your usual table, Mr. Marco.”

“Thank you.”

As I sit, my gaze drifts across the dining room. Several of our guards take seats at nearby tables, positioning themselves where they can keep an eye on both us and the restaurant entrance.

“Do they get dinner as well, or do they have to watch everybody else eating?” I ask once Daniel has left, gesturing toward them.

Maximo follows my gaze. “They eat.”

“That’s reassuring.” I peer back at the guards. “If they’re supposed to blend in, they’re doing a terrible job.”

“Only because you know what to look for.”

Before I can say any more, our server arrives. “Good evening, ma’am,” he says to me before turning to Maximo. “Mr. Marco, welcome back.”

“Thank you, Jonas.” Maximo glances at me. “Take good care of my date tonight.”

Date?

The word lands like a grenade.

Oh God, I hadn’t connected those dots.

I probably should be glad he didn’t introduce me as his fiancée or the future Mrs. Marco. It’s a small mercy, given how certain he seems to be that this is going to happen.

This is actually my first date. Ever.

And of all people, it has to be with Don Maximo Marco. I’d always imagined it would happen differently, with someone I wanted to date.

My life has developed an irritating sense of humor.

“Of course, sir,” Jonas replies.

He hands Maximo the menu before filling our glasses with sparkling water. I wait for a menu of my own, but apparently, I’m not getting one.

“We’ll have the lobster bisque to begin,” Maximo says, handing back the menu without opening it. “Followed by the miso-glazed black cod for Miss Accardi. The filet mignon for me. We’ll share the charred asparagus and pommes purée.”

“Very good, Mr. Marco.”

He glances at Jonas. “And a bottle of Cervaro della Sala.”

“Excellent choice, sir.”

Once Jonas disappears, I turn my attention to Maximo.

“Do you always order for your… dates?”

“Did you object to any of my choices?” he asks instead of answering my question.

I sigh. “I hate to admit it, but no. Somehow you seem to know what I like. Coincidence, I wonder?”

Again, he doesn’t answer.