elbow.
Yeah. It was much safer downstairs.
Chapter Nine
“So are you going to tell me the real reason you’ve brought me here tonight?” Ally asked the moment they stepped off the elevator and started walking down the long hallway that led to Chef Marcel’s.
Carter kept his head straight ahead, and Ally’s jaw tightened. She was quickly learning that he didn’t like to look at her when he lied.
“I thought you might be hungry,” he said. “Isn’t that reason enough?”
She narrowed her eyes as she stared at him. Yeah, she hadn’t bought it back up in the hotel room, and she wasn’t buying it now.
Of course, she’d been too swept up by his compliments and proximity when they’d been upstairs to say anything. There was something about the way his warm caramel gaze fell over her, like he might want to skip dinner altogether and get right to dessert. And then there was the touch…oh Lord, his touch. Even now Ally could feel the tingles radiating out from where his fingers had caressed the back of her palm.
No wonder she’d lost the ability to speak.
But now that she’d had a few moments to take a breath and calm down, she could finally get around to calling him out.
“I’ve had plenty of dinners in jeans before,” she said.
“But tonight you don’t have to,” Carter said, tucking her closer to his side as they crossed through the open archway into the restaurant.
Ally opened her mouth to ask again, but closed it the moment she started to look around. Chef Marcel’s had to be the nicest restaurant she’d ever been in.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the carved paneled ceiling. Leather chairs and bar stools were tastefully arranged in the mood lit lounge. Just beyond the bar area she could see the dining room and its sophisticated modern, but not trendy, design. Walls of windows looked out across a panoramic view of the city.
Yeah, this was a hell of a lot nicer than scraping the last bits of cheese off the top of a cardboard pizza box.
Maybe she was digging a little deeper than she had to. It was just dinner after all. How much trouble could Carter really get into while seated in a crowded, upscale place like this?
He led her over to an empty pair of dark plush chairs tucked in a tight V in the corner closest to the dining room. A small table was nestled between them. Carter let go of her hand, allowing her to sit.
Ally swept her hand along the back of her skirt as she sat, making sure she kept her back as straight as possible. She’d never been so worried about wrinkling a dress in her life. She’d never worn anything this nice. And it wasn’t like the thing was hers. Not really.
She had the feeling that Carter would try to give it to her as a gift, but there was no way she could accept something so expensive. Once she took it off for the night, she’d be handing it right back to him.
Of course, how it ended up coming off of her was really anybody’s guess. She might not have believed his reasons for bringing her here tonight, but the hungry looks he’d been giving her, those had seemed real enough.
Either that or the man was a better liar than she was giving him credit for.
The waitress appeared a moment later.
“I’ll have an old fashioned,” Carter ordered, and then gestured toward Ally.
“And a soda water, please.”
The waitress nodded before turning and heading back to the backlit antique bar.
“A soda water?” The corners of Carter’s eyes lifted as he asked.
“One of us has to keep our head on straight.”
“Good thinking,” he said with a wink.
Ally resisted the urge to reach out and smack him. Instead, she looked down and smoothed out the wrinkles on her lap.
“You all right?” Carter asked.
“Yeah,” Ally said, looking up and giving him a tight smile.
“Really?” he pressed. “Because you seem a little uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little out of my element.”
Carter leaned in closer. “So let me get
Yeah. It was much safer downstairs.
Chapter Nine
“So are you going to tell me the real reason you’ve brought me here tonight?” Ally asked the moment they stepped off the elevator and started walking down the long hallway that led to Chef Marcel’s.
Carter kept his head straight ahead, and Ally’s jaw tightened. She was quickly learning that he didn’t like to look at her when he lied.
“I thought you might be hungry,” he said. “Isn’t that reason enough?”
She narrowed her eyes as she stared at him. Yeah, she hadn’t bought it back up in the hotel room, and she wasn’t buying it now.
Of course, she’d been too swept up by his compliments and proximity when they’d been upstairs to say anything. There was something about the way his warm caramel gaze fell over her, like he might want to skip dinner altogether and get right to dessert. And then there was the touch…oh Lord, his touch. Even now Ally could feel the tingles radiating out from where his fingers had caressed the back of her palm.
No wonder she’d lost the ability to speak.
But now that she’d had a few moments to take a breath and calm down, she could finally get around to calling him out.
“I’ve had plenty of dinners in jeans before,” she said.
“But tonight you don’t have to,” Carter said, tucking her closer to his side as they crossed through the open archway into the restaurant.
Ally opened her mouth to ask again, but closed it the moment she started to look around. Chef Marcel’s had to be the nicest restaurant she’d ever been in.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the carved paneled ceiling. Leather chairs and bar stools were tastefully arranged in the mood lit lounge. Just beyond the bar area she could see the dining room and its sophisticated modern, but not trendy, design. Walls of windows looked out across a panoramic view of the city.
Yeah, this was a hell of a lot nicer than scraping the last bits of cheese off the top of a cardboard pizza box.
Maybe she was digging a little deeper than she had to. It was just dinner after all. How much trouble could Carter really get into while seated in a crowded, upscale place like this?
He led her over to an empty pair of dark plush chairs tucked in a tight V in the corner closest to the dining room. A small table was nestled between them. Carter let go of her hand, allowing her to sit.
Ally swept her hand along the back of her skirt as she sat, making sure she kept her back as straight as possible. She’d never been so worried about wrinkling a dress in her life. She’d never worn anything this nice. And it wasn’t like the thing was hers. Not really.
She had the feeling that Carter would try to give it to her as a gift, but there was no way she could accept something so expensive. Once she took it off for the night, she’d be handing it right back to him.
Of course, how it ended up coming off of her was really anybody’s guess. She might not have believed his reasons for bringing her here tonight, but the hungry looks he’d been giving her, those had seemed real enough.
Either that or the man was a better liar than she was giving him credit for.
The waitress appeared a moment later.
“I’ll have an old fashioned,” Carter ordered, and then gestured toward Ally.
“And a soda water, please.”
The waitress nodded before turning and heading back to the backlit antique bar.
“A soda water?” The corners of Carter’s eyes lifted as he asked.
“One of us has to keep our head on straight.”
“Good thinking,” he said with a wink.
Ally resisted the urge to reach out and smack him. Instead, she looked down and smoothed out the wrinkles on her lap.
“You all right?” Carter asked.
“Yeah,” Ally said, looking up and giving him a tight smile.
“Really?” he pressed. “Because you seem a little uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little out of my element.”
Carter leaned in closer. “So let me get
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