Page 20 of Curiosity

“Maybe some would,” he shrugged. “Personally, I only care to make room for the exquisite. Both in my life, and in my gallery.”

I only care to make room for the exquisite.

Wow.

He was talkingsucha good game.

And maybe if I were younger, less experienced, it would be much easier to fall for.

But as it was… I wasn’t completely buying it.

And I was massively curious as to what it was aboutmethat made him think I would.

So I asked.

“Why me?”

“You want the truth?”

I frowned. “Of course I want the truth, why else would I have asked the question?” I snapped, not caring to lower my voice as the server returned to clear our starter plates, replacing them with the entrée.

Tenderloin, scallops, fingerling potatoes, broccolini.

More personal favorites.

My attention was on Elias as a vein at his temple twitched, clearly in reaction to the energy I was giving him.

I didn’t care.

This — down to him somehow knowing my favorite dishes — was all a lot, and therehadto be room for me to be frustrated by the way it was unfolding.

“The truth is… that I don’t know,” he answered, looking me right in the eyes.

I was the one who broke contact, choosing to examine my steak. “Exactlywhat every woman wants to hear while she’s in the middle of nowhere, alone in a house with a man she doesn’t know.”

“If you need clarification on my words, you could just say that, Celeste.”

“Or you can choose to not be purposely opaque.”

“Fine,” he nodded. “Transparency, then. The truth is that I was out on the lake with my brothers, our personal parcel, which connects to Lake Zecoria. You were out on the lake too - catering to a private party who somehow found their vessel on our Lake Black – no doubt seeking the beauty of the serene view, but… trespassing, nonetheless. Nothing a little conversation between the two captains didn’t clear up, but just enough of a prolonged interaction that I had the opportunity to lay eyes on you. And as soon as I did, there came the kind of shift that only happens once in a lifetime for a man like me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So you’re telling me, you saw me sweaty on a boat serving cream puffs to some rich assholes, and thought,that’s her.”

“Is that a problem?” he asked. “I thought most women wanted to be appreciated for their natural beauty.

“Of course, but I was under the impression that wealthy men preferred their women a little more… polished.”

He chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, Idolove to see you dolled up, but… I also absolutely enjoy the sight of you completely undone,” he smirked, running his tongue over his lips. “Yourface flushed, hair a mess, unable to hold back your moans… I want it all.”

I put a fork full of scallop in my mouth, more as a stalling tactic than out of genuine hunger, even though the food was amazing.

“Whynotyou?” he asked, and I almost choked over the food in my mouth, coughing a bit before I swallowed to clear my throat.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “You saidwhy meas if you were skeptical I’d genuinely want you. Is that question based on another of your presumptions about me?”

“Call it a presumption if you must,” I answered. “I’d call it an educated inference based on experience. I come in the contact with wealthy men all the time, and as I said, they usually prefer their women a bit more trophy-esque.”

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