Page 66 of Wreck Me

My stomach flips.

It’s just for show. It’s not real. But damn, does that word sound good falling from James’s tongue.

Almost as good as, 'you’re mine.'

'Actually, do you have any of the Masseto?' James thumbs open the wine menu and indicates a bottle that costs a thousand euro.

'Absolutely.' Matteo nods and swivels on his heels to fetch it.

Jesus, this place may be small and quaint but it’s something else.

'There’s no need for that,' I whisper.

'Trust me, there is.' James winks. 'And you thought Juliana’s was the best Italian in Dublin? Wait until you taste Matteo’s wife’s cooking.'

James isn't wrong.

We devour course after course of practically every dish on the menu; truffle tagliani, saffron and gold leaf pasta, lobster ravioli. And the wagyu beef blows the one we had at Juliana’s out of the water.

'How was your day?' James asks between mouthfuls.

'Productive. I managed to write another two thousand words of my dissertation.' I help myself to another spoonful of pasta.

'That’s fantastic.' James’s foot catches mine beneath the table. 'I wasn't joking about helping with your studies, if you need me.'

Oh, I need him alright, just not for those type of studies.

Our eyes connect across the table, chemistry crackling between us. 'Dirty girl,' he says with the uncanny talent of a mind reader.

'What can I say?' I shrug. 'If I’d have known how good it could be, I would have done it years ago.'

A low growl rumbles from his chest. 'Careful, sweetheart, or I’ll put you over my knee.'

'You wouldn't dare.'

'Try me.' He arches a single eyebrow. 'Do you think any of those college boys are capable of making you come like I do?'

I pick up my wine glass. 'Probably not.'

'There’s no probably about it, Scarlett.' He inches closer over the table. 'An attraction like ours is rare.'

'I believe you.' Heat swamps my cheeks.

His eyes twinkle. 'Had many crushes, have you?'

'There was this one guy I used to ogle in the tabloids.' I shrug. 'I used to stare at his picture and wonder what it’d be like to kiss him.'

James glowers. 'What was his name?'

I tilt my head. 'Seriously?'

His eyes light. 'Me?'

‘You must have seen the articles printed about you. I used to stare at your picture in the paper and imagine what it would be like to kiss you.'

His pupils meld into his irises in a pool of dark promise. 'And now you know.' He runs a thoughtful thumb over his jawline. 'Did it live up to your expectations?'

'It was okay, I guess.' I tease.

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