Page 3 of The Cask

He took me in for a moment before running his tongue from one corner of his mouth to the other. “My treasure,” he murmured.

Butterflies swarmed my belly. “You speak French?”

He smirked. “Only what I can remember from high school.” His thumb brushed across my knuckles and my nipples tightened underneath the black dress. “We’re not quite open yet, but what can I do for you, Ebony Montresor?”

A jolt of electricity coursed through me and I briefly forgot why I was there.

Pulling my hand from his, everything around us came back into focus.

“I’m here to speak with Kim,” I stated, trying to shake off the chill he gave me.

“She’s in the back. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Holding his gaze, I shook my head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

“Try me.” He smirked. “She’ll be back up in a few minutes and I’d love to get the opportunity to get to know you a little better while you wait.”

I wanted to demand that he get her so I could confront her. But as his eyes pierced mine, I decided that I could wait a couple of minutes to confront my new nemesis.

“What would you like to know?” I wondered, cocking my head to the side.

“I noticed you didn’t have a ring on your finger. Does that mean you’re single?”

“I am.”

A smile played on his lips. “Good. Because I would like to take you out to dinner and get to know you better.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Are you asking me or are you telling me?”

“I’m telling you what I want. And now I’m asking you if dinner is okay or would you prefer lunch?”

I tried not to smile. “You’re quite sure of yourself.”

He searched my eyes and with a serious expression said, “I’m quite sure I’ve never wanted to get to know someone as much as I want to get to know you.”

I kept my composure as my panties disintegrated. “I wouldn’t mind being taken out. And dinner is fine.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Can I get your number so I can call you sometime?”

I rattled off my number as he saved it.

“I just sent you a text message, so you’ll know it’s me,” he informed me.

“Are you single?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t have asked you out if I weren’t.”

I pursed my lips.Men lie all the time.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I repeated, “Are you single?”

He chuckled under his breath. “I’m single. Unattached. Never married.”

Smiling begrudgingly, I dropped my arms. “Okay, sounds good.”

“What would you say to an Italian dinner?”

“It depends on the day,” I answered coyly. “I may be working.”

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