Page 32 of Wicked Flirt
She checked her look in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. Marcus had told her to dress nice for the restaurant, so she’d paired her white blouse with a plum-colored pencil skirt, black stockings, and high-heeled black ankle boots. She’d left her hair down, light on the makeup. Nerves skittered through her. Today felt more like a date, going out someplace nice for lunch.
The doorbell rang and her heart leapt.Calm down. She headed for the door, took a deep breath, and answered it.
Marcus flashed a smile and held a bouquet of red roses out to her. “For you,” he said warmly.
She sucked in air. Not just because he was breathtakingly gorgeous when he smiled, it was just all his warmth and romantic intentions focused on her made her almost woozy. He really was beautiful—his dark hair styled back smoothly, chiseled cheekbones, square clean-shaven jaw. His large muscular body filled out a white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and gray pants that must’ve been tailored to his exact measurements.
“Thank you,” she said, clutching the bouquet to her chest. She stared at the roses, admiring their lush petals just beginning to bloom.
Marcus cleared his throat. “So you want to put them in water or take them with you?”
Her head jerked up. How long had she been standing here admiring her roses?
She laughed. “I’ll put them in water. Just a minute.” She went inside and he followed.
“Hope you like Italian,” he said.
“I love it.”
“Great.”
She pulled a vase from a high cabinet, filled it halfway, and arranged the roses. Then she set it on the coffee table so she’d see them as soon as she returned. She crossed to him and he gave her a warm smile.
“You look beautiful,” he said, offering his arm.
She took his arm, feeling weak in the knees. She’d never known that was a real thing before today. “Thank you. You’re beautiful too. I mean, man beautiful.” She shook her head. “Handsome.”
He laughed and led her out of the apartment. “So how do you feel about sharing dessert? Some people want it all to themselves. This place has the best tiramisu, second only to Venice.”
“I can share. You’ve been to Venice? I’ve always wanted to go.”
“I’ve been to a lot of places. I like to go somewhere different on every vacation.”
They drove to the wealthy town of Greenport for lunch, Marcus telling her all about his awesome travels around the world—plenty of countries in Europe, but also Peru, Costa Rica, an island off the coast of Africa, Japan, and Australia. He loved to scuba dive whenever he could. He was so easy to talk to, she completely relaxed.
He parked, walked around to her side, and opened her door for her. Then he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm for their walk to the restaurant. He made her feel special, like he was really into her. In her experience, guys played it cool, games and all that shit. Not Marcus.
“Is it scary to scuba dive?” she asked. “I’d worry about running out of oxygen.”
“Nah, it’s great, you’d love it. I got certified before Australia so I could explore the Great Barrier Reef. The coral was amazing, tropical fish in all shapes and colors. We even explored a sunken ship.”
“I’ve snorkeled before in St. Thomas, but never tried scuba. I’ve heard it’s great in Hawaii.”
“Oh, yeah, both scuba and snorkel are fantastic in Hawaii. Things slow down at work for me in August. We should take a trip out there.”
She bit her lip. He was inviting her on vacation? The underlying assumption that they’d be together in the future warmed her all over, but made her a little nervous too. What if they planned something and things fell apart? It was only February.
He smiled down at her and winked. “No pressure. I just thought it’d be fun.”
She met his dark eyes and took a flying leap into risky relationship territory. “I’d like that.”
He smiled widely. “Then it’s a date.”
She couldn’t stop smiling. And she didn’t even care that she must look like a complete dope.
They reached the restaurant and Marcus opened the door for her, ushering her inside. He spoke to the maître d’ and they were shown to a table in the corner right away. The place was filled with square tables covered in white tablecloths with soft mood lighting in recessed lights and glowing red wall sconces. Several large landscape paintings of Italian vineyards decorated the walls.
The maître d’ helped her into her seat. Marcus took the seat across from her.
