Page 27 of Fake Dating the Silver Fox

His gaze drops over me from head to toe, and a slow smile curves his lips. “You look amazing.”

The heated look in his brown eyes has my pulse skipping a beat. I take his hand, and he pulls me into his arms. His mouth is on mine, a possessive claim of a kiss that reminds me how passionate he is in bed.

“Maybe we should skip dinner.” I tug him over the threshold.

He pulls me back into his arms. “We need to eat.” His mouth lowers to mine one more time before he releases me. “There’s plenty of time later.”

The promise of all night with Graham makes me ravenous. “I’ll need to keep my strength up if I want to keep up with you.”

He laughs and leads the way down the sidewalk. “Not bad for an old man.”

His fans’ comments about our age gap ring in my ears. “Don’t call yourself old. You’re not old.”

“You’re just young.”

My shoulders stiffen. “I can’t help my age.”

He opens the passenger door to a black BMW parked at the curb. “I was joking.”

“Not funny.” I smile to soften my words.

“No?”

He shrugs. “This is why I write thrillers, not comedy.”

As Graham walks around the car and slides into the driver’s seat, I take a moment to give myself a little pep talk.

Who cares what those internet people say?

I know I’m not after Graham’s money, and so does he. Nothing else matters.

I lean across the console, giving Graham my undivided attention. “Where are you taking me tonight?”

“Sky Valley Resort. Have you been there?”

I try not to gape. Sky Valley is the nicest place in town. The resort has a vineyard and hotel that attracts celebrities and nobles from around the globe.

“I’ve never been there.” I couldn’t afford an appetizer at the restaurant, much less an entire meal. Once again, the online bullies’ comments echo in my head. I shove them aside as best I can and try to remain optimistic for our date.

The car ride goes smoothly. Graham is easy to talk to, and before I know it, we are pulling up to the resort hotel. I’ve never visited the resort before, and I’m floored at the rustic beauty.

The hotel is a castle-like structure built in the early twentieth century. The stone exterior stands on acres of manicured landscaping with a view of the winery in the backdrop.

A valet hurries over and takes care of parking the car, then Graham leads me inside. I feel like a princess, floating on air.

“This place is amazing.” I crane my neck to take in the bouquets of flowers and priceless art. “I wonder what it would be like in the rooms?”

Graham takes my hand. “Are you asking me to spend the night?”

My cheeks redden. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t expect you to get us a room.”

“Why not?” He lifts my arm and kisses the inside of my wrist. “We could make a night of it.”

I glance around at the lavish lobby, wondering how much a room costs. Probably more than my rent. “Let’s just start with dinner.”

Graham lets it drop. “Wait until you try the food.”

We settle in a private booth lit by a dim candelabra. Smooth jazz plays over the speakers at a low volume, and the scent of Italian spices fills the air.

---