Page 35 of Tempting Frankie
His lips quirk up in that infuriating smirk. “Oh, I do wish. I love watching you squirm.”
Heat floods my cheeks, and I clench my thighs together under the table. Fuck, how does he do this to me with just a look?
The silence stretches between us. I find myself cataloging every detail of his face. The slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the strong line of his jaw. My gaze drops to his mouth, and I can't help but remember how those lips felt against my skin last night, trailing fire down my body.
Just as I'm about to combust from the sheer intensity of it all, the waiter returns with our wine. He presents the bottle to Alexander, who nods his approval without taking his eyes off me.
The waiter pours a small amount for Alexander to taste. He swirls it in the glass, inhaling deeply before taking a sip. His throat bobs as he swallows, and I find myself transfixed by the movement.
“Acceptable,” Alexander declares, and the waiter pours us each a full glass.
As soon as we're alone again, Alexander raises his glass. “Tell me, Francesca,” he says, rolling my name around in his mouth like he's savoring it. “What do you think of the wine?”
I take a sip before answering. I consider bullshitting some pretentious answer about notes of oak and hints of berry. But fuck it. If he wanted arm candy with a sommelier's palate, he picked the wrong girl.
“Tastes expensive,” I reply with a shrug. “But I bet you could make me see stars with something a hell of a lot cheaper.”
His eyes darken at my words, pupils blown wide with desire. “Oh, I intend to make you see entire galaxies before the night is through, little one. And not a drop of wine will be necessary.”
Alexander leans back in his chair, looking every inch the powerful man he is. “Do you know why I brought you here tonight, Francesca?”
I arch an eyebrow. “To show off your impressive wine knowledge and make me feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman again?”
He laughs, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “Not quite, though I do enjoy spoiling you.” His expression turns serious. “I've noticed you seem restless lately, bored even.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “What gave it away? The fact that I've reorganized your library three times or that I've binged every trashy reality show known to mankind?”
He doesn't rise to my bait, just keeps looking at me with that piercing gaze. I feel exposed, like he can see right through me.
“The first week or two, it was nice,” I admit, swirling the ridiculously expensive wine in my glass. “Not having to work, not worrying about bills or my apartment. Just lounging by the pool, getting pampered. But now?” I shrug, trying to play it casual even as the words pour out of me. “Now I'm climbing the walls. There's only so many times I can wander around thatmansion or hang out with Kat before I start to feel like a caged animal.”
Alexander nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I thought as much.”
“So what, you brought me here to tell me you're cutting me loose?” The words come out sharper than I intended, laced with a fear I didn't even know I had.
His hand shoots out, gripping my hand with a strength that makes heat pool right in my panties. “Never,” he growls, and fuck if that one word doesn't make me wet. “You're mine, Francesca. I have no intention of letting you out of our deal.”
I swallow hard, my heart pounding. “Then what?”
Alexander's thumb traces lazy circles on the inside of my wrist, and I have to bite back a moan. “I have a proposition for you,” he says, his voice low and husky. “One that I think will solve your boredom problem and give you a taste of something you might come to crave.”
My breath catches in my throat. “I'm listening.”
He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. “I want you to come work for me,” he murmurs. “At Steele Enterprises.”
I pull back, searching his face for any sign he's joking. “You can't be serious.”
“Oh, I'm very serious,” Alexander says, his eyes dark with promise. “You're smart, Francesca. Resourceful. I've seen how quickly you pick things up. I want that mind of yours working for me.”
My head is spinning. “But what about us? Won't people talk?”
He smirks, trailing a finger along my collarbone. “Let them talk. I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks. You'll start in a junior position, of course. But I have no doubt you'll climb the ranks quickly.”
I can't deny the thrill that runs through me at his words. The idea of proving myself, of having something that's mine beyond just being Alexander's kept woman.
People will talk, but people already talk. I can handle it and if I keep myself separate from him while at work…
I'm still reeling from Alexander's job offer when our waiter materializes, carrying two plates that look like edible modern art.
