Page 51 of Eat Slay Love

His expression shifted, the easy seduction flickering into something closer to frustration. “Tomorrow.”

I nodded, setting my fork down. “Yes.”

He exhaled sharply, lowering his hand onto the table, fingers tapping against the surface. “Why did you decide to make the trip so short?”

“This was just about me splurging onmyselffor one night.” I shrugged. “Plus, I have another scene to coordinate on Monday, and I like to have a day or two, to refresh and relax before work.”

“Hmmm.”

I arched a brow. “What?”

His jaw flexed slightly before he admitted, “Upon seeingyou, I had already planned on canceling my Paris flight for tomorrow.”

I smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “Because you’re starting to love New York that much?”

There was no humor in his face. His green eyes locked onto mine. “So. . .we only havetonight?”

The weight of those words settled over me.

My pulse skittered. “Yes.”

Fabien exhaled, his frustration restrained, but palpable. Then, after a pause, he straightened. “What were your plans after Alchemy?”

“Well. . .” I tucked a curl behind my ear. “I figured I would just head back to my hotel and pass out.”

“Are you tired?”

“No.”

His lips curved slightly, his eyes running over me with indulgence. “Then. . .spend the rest of the evening with me. Is there something you want to see in New York? Something you’ve always wanted to do?”

I tried to scan my brain for some kind of bucket-list activity, but all I could think about was how badly I wanted him to keep looking at me the way he was now.

My body burned with awareness, but I forced myself to think.

Where should we go?

Chapter nine

Plans

Rae

I swallowed, my brain short-circuiting under the weight of what I really wanted to say.

Because the truth of what I wanted to do after this dinner. . .

The truth wasreckless.

The truth washeat pooling between my thighs, my body already humming with the certainty of what I wanted to do.

I wanted to go back to his suite.

I wanted to see just how much of that quiet intensity would translate into touch, into movement, into the kind of pleasure that had been nothing more than a distant memory.

Ten years.Should I end my celibacy tonight?

But I also knew better.

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