Page 105 of Fifth Avenue Fling

How am I supposed to enjoy my potatoes with this vomit-inducing muck on the plate?

I take a big swig of wine and wonder if I could get away with requesting a neat whiskey and pouring it over the abomination on my plate to disguise the taste.

“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it.” Killian nudges me. I wish he wouldn’t watch me. This is traumatizing enough as it is without spectators. “Do you want to order something else?”

“I can’t,” I groan in despair. “I have to finish everything on my plate because I’m doing it for all the starving children in the world who can’t.” Damn Catholic guilt.

He nudges my hands away from my plate as the others are caught up in Teagan’s and Becky’s gushing about the pop star dude.

“What are you doing?” I ask, confused, as he swaps my plate for his. “No! I can’t let you do that.”

I’m tortured between taking a bite of the steak and doing the right thing and swapping the plates back. “Do you evenlikesteak tartare?”

He takes a bite, the picture of ease. “Love it,” he says with a wink.

“Liar.”

“What are you two doing?” Connor interjects, watching us.

“I’ve changed my mind.” Killian shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. “I fancy the tartare.”

My cheeks flush as I look at Connor, and give a dismissive shrug. I bite into Killian’s steak. Fuck that, there’s no way I’m giving this back.

As he loads the next forkful of raw food, his arm brushes against mine. Wow, that was sweet. The guy is eating raw meat for me. It must be the dad side of him.

I don’t know if it’s my pride, ego, or something else, but I wish he would see me differently.

I’m just a quick one-night fling. Correction. A fifteen-minute fling, a mistake, not a serious proposal.

My core heats as I imagine him forcing me up against the wall of my studio and fucking me.

Now I feel as raw as the damn meat.

Feeling someone’s eyes on me, I shift my gaze to the next table. They’re talking about Killian.

One woman stares at me as if she wants my organs. I narrow my eyes at her.Back off, lady. I’m his nanny maid. I don’t need negative vibes in this fancy restaurant.

“People are talking about you,” I say in a hushed voice.

His eyes crinkle. “Are they? Hadn’t noticed.”

His face is warmer this evening. He’s in a good mood. Being out with the Quinns is less weird than I expected. Killian’s mother is down to earth, despite having birthed two billionaires. Connor’s a lot of fun, too.

“So, Clodagh,” Killian’s mum begins, her eyes full of mischief. “Have you met any nice men in New York?”

Killian’s not interested in me. I might as well show him the feeling’s mutual. I swallow my bite of steak and say, “Actually, I met someone recently.”

Killian’s thigh presses hard against mine under the table as if in warning.

Oh my God, he thinks I’m talking about him.

I almost want to laugh. Does he think I’m going to blurt out about our one-night stand to his family?

Feeling his intense stare on my cheek, I carry on. “Just today, I met a nice guy in the park who wants to go out. We exchanged numbers.”

Killian’s leg pulls away from me. The drink hovers over his lips for a moment before he takes a sip.

I dare not look directly at him.

---