glanced down at the menu. “Everything looks good, Riley. What do you recommend?”
“About you or what’s on the menu?” he asked with a flirty wink at her.
She gave him an admonishing smile, wondering if this was how it would be for the rest of the night. “The menu, Riley.”
He smiled. “In that case I would recommend the...”
She listened while he rattled off a number of dishes, pronouncing each in a deep French accent that stirred her nerve endings. She gazed deep into the eyes staring back at her. In the depths of his dark gaze was a promise of what would come later. A hot, lusty night filled with pleasure. And heaven help her, she was looking forward to it.
“So what do you think, Alpha?”
She knew he was asking about the menu and the dishes he’d just told her about, but though she had heard, she hadn’t listened. “I’ll let you decide.”
He nodded and gave her a smile, one that told her he knew why she was taking the easy way out. Pierre returned with the wine and poured some into their glasses and then took their orders. When he left, Alpha glanced around.
The room was small and intimate. They had been given a table with a view of Pikes Peak, and it was breathtaking. Music was flowing into the room through hidden speakers, and the tunes were romantic. She hadn’t realized how secluded the room was until she recalled walking through the restaurant to get to it. Not only did the fire blazing in the fireplace provide warmth, but it also set an intimate tone. On the drive over, she’d tried bringing him up to date on the party plans, but Riley had reached out, touched her hand and said tonight was not about the party but about them.
“This is a nice room,” she said.
“I’m glad you like it. So tell me, Alpha. Do you ski?”
* * *
Why was he asking her that? Riley immediately wondered. It had to be for the purpose of conversation, nothing more. The inquiry certainly couldn’t have anything to do with his ski trip to Aspen in January since their affair would have ended by then.
“No, I don’t ski.”
He wasn’t surprised. “Would you like to learn how?”
She shook her head. “That would mean being out in not just cold weather but super cold weather, so I’ll pass.”
He should let it go, but couldn’t. “What if I promised to keep you warm?”
She chuckled. “I don’t think you can keep me that warm, Riley.”
“But if I could?” he inquired further, taking a sip of his wine.
“You can’t.”
He didn’t say anything but, deep down, he saw it as a challenge. He held her gaze. “We’ll see.”
She tilted her head and looked at him. “Tell me. What do you get out of skiing? I heard it’s not really a form of exercise.”
He watched her take a sip of her wine. The way she closed her lips around the mouth of the glass sent flutters off in his stomach. “Not true. Any time you use muscles you don’t normally use, you’re exercising.”
He took a sip of his wine as he told her about the first time he’d put on a pair of skis. “I was all but seven and my father and uncle took their sons on a ski trip for the sole purpose of providing us with professional ski lessons.”
He chuckled. “I guess they knew their sons and figured if they didn’t make sure we were taught by a professional then we would learn the wrong way and risk our lives. Being on the slopes with my family was special to me and I consider those memories some of the best ones of my childhood. Maybe that’s why I enjoy skiing so much.”
He saw the wistful look that shone in her eyes, so he added, “I’m sure you and your sister did things with your family that you hold as special memories, too.”
She shifted her gaze from his to pick up her glass of wine. “Yes, of course.”
Not for the first time, he thought she was deliberately not sharing information about her family. It shouldn’t bother him, but it did, mainly because he didn’t have any problem telling her about his family.
“About you or what’s on the menu?” he asked with a flirty wink at her.
She gave him an admonishing smile, wondering if this was how it would be for the rest of the night. “The menu, Riley.”
He smiled. “In that case I would recommend the...”
She listened while he rattled off a number of dishes, pronouncing each in a deep French accent that stirred her nerve endings. She gazed deep into the eyes staring back at her. In the depths of his dark gaze was a promise of what would come later. A hot, lusty night filled with pleasure. And heaven help her, she was looking forward to it.
“So what do you think, Alpha?”
She knew he was asking about the menu and the dishes he’d just told her about, but though she had heard, she hadn’t listened. “I’ll let you decide.”
He nodded and gave her a smile, one that told her he knew why she was taking the easy way out. Pierre returned with the wine and poured some into their glasses and then took their orders. When he left, Alpha glanced around.
The room was small and intimate. They had been given a table with a view of Pikes Peak, and it was breathtaking. Music was flowing into the room through hidden speakers, and the tunes were romantic. She hadn’t realized how secluded the room was until she recalled walking through the restaurant to get to it. Not only did the fire blazing in the fireplace provide warmth, but it also set an intimate tone. On the drive over, she’d tried bringing him up to date on the party plans, but Riley had reached out, touched her hand and said tonight was not about the party but about them.
“This is a nice room,” she said.
“I’m glad you like it. So tell me, Alpha. Do you ski?”
* * *
Why was he asking her that? Riley immediately wondered. It had to be for the purpose of conversation, nothing more. The inquiry certainly couldn’t have anything to do with his ski trip to Aspen in January since their affair would have ended by then.
“No, I don’t ski.”
He wasn’t surprised. “Would you like to learn how?”
She shook her head. “That would mean being out in not just cold weather but super cold weather, so I’ll pass.”
He should let it go, but couldn’t. “What if I promised to keep you warm?”
She chuckled. “I don’t think you can keep me that warm, Riley.”
“But if I could?” he inquired further, taking a sip of his wine.
“You can’t.”
He didn’t say anything but, deep down, he saw it as a challenge. He held her gaze. “We’ll see.”
She tilted her head and looked at him. “Tell me. What do you get out of skiing? I heard it’s not really a form of exercise.”
He watched her take a sip of her wine. The way she closed her lips around the mouth of the glass sent flutters off in his stomach. “Not true. Any time you use muscles you don’t normally use, you’re exercising.”
He took a sip of his wine as he told her about the first time he’d put on a pair of skis. “I was all but seven and my father and uncle took their sons on a ski trip for the sole purpose of providing us with professional ski lessons.”
He chuckled. “I guess they knew their sons and figured if they didn’t make sure we were taught by a professional then we would learn the wrong way and risk our lives. Being on the slopes with my family was special to me and I consider those memories some of the best ones of my childhood. Maybe that’s why I enjoy skiing so much.”
He saw the wistful look that shone in her eyes, so he added, “I’m sure you and your sister did things with your family that you hold as special memories, too.”
She shifted her gaze from his to pick up her glass of wine. “Yes, of course.”
Not for the first time, he thought she was deliberately not sharing information about her family. It shouldn’t bother him, but it did, mainly because he didn’t have any problem telling her about his family.
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