ver her. If she had to go on this ridiculous date, she would control the narrative. She deliberatel
at a Michelin-starred restaurant. She pulled her long brown hair back into a tight, unforgiving bun at the nape of her neck and put on
rf
ing back was drab, severe, and utterly unapproachable. She
ushed to open her door. The restaurant's interior was even more opulent than its exterior, al
ght feeling of unease beginning to creep up
as far too warm, far too deferential.
r down a quiet, carpeted hallway, away from the noise and the other patrons,
with a banker from New York didn't warrant this
ogany doors at the very end of the hall. He pushed
n her clutch. She stepped inside. The door clic
ded the only illumination, its flames dancing and casting long, flickering shadow
looked the glittering D.C. skyline, sat a man. His face was lost in the shadows, but
ounding small in the large room. Sh
down on the table, the crystal making
cked out the city lights, plunging the room into deeper shadow. He be
er up his body, illuminating expensive shoes, the p
tepped fully i
ushed from her lungs as if she'd
't Davi
The man from
went completely blank for a full second bef
d fumbling for the doork
me from right behind her, a low, amused drawl t
round the heavy bras
in, harder, rattling it in its
ed just a few feet from her, his hands in his pockets, watching her with an unnerving intensity.
d, his eyes glinting with dark humor. "But I hav
eact, he reached up and plucked the glasses from her face. He loo
tracing the sharp line of her jaw. His t
g to a husky whisper that vibrated th
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