She couldn't help watching with a hungry intensity she tried to hide as he folded his six-foot-three frame into the chair across from hers. His dark, wavy hair, cut just a little long framed chiseled features she could stare at all night. His superbly muscled frame filled out his dinner jacket in a way few businessmen did.
His hands were well groomed, his nails buffed from a masculine manicure, but they were big and marked with tiny scars from a background very different to hers.
After placing their napkins in their laps, the maître d'left without giving them menus, but Nikos did not remark on it.
He was too busy looking at her, his knowing gaze acknowledging the desire she tried so hard to hide.
His even, white teeth slashed in a smile. "I am not on the menu,pethi mou ." He paused and his smile turned to a predator's grin. "But I could be."
"Promises, promises…" she boldly teased back even as she felt the blush burning her cheeks.
Her body wasn't feeling any embarrassment, however. It was too busy reacting to his teasing as if to a caress. Unrepentant heat pooled low in her belly while her breasts tingled with the need to be touched. Her already hardened nipples felt like they increased in size, aching for his attention.
She wasn't precisely a virgin, but she'd never responded to anyone the way she responded to him.
He laughed, but didn't deny that he had no real plans to follow through on his taunt. The truth was, though they had been dating for three months, he had never pushed for the ultimate intimacy and he'd ignored her subtle hints in that direction.
She stifled a pang of disappointment and asked, "How did the negotiations go with the department store chain?"
He and her mother had combined forces to try to lure one of the biggest worldwide retailers into using their combined shipping companies' resources and Nikos' import/export network.
"It is in the bag."
She loved the way he often talked American slang in his slight Greek accent. Unlike others of different nationalities that she'd met through her mother, Nikos did not speak with the flawless accent of an Englishman, trained by exacting teachers. He'd told her he'd learned most of his English after coming to live in the United States when he was a child. His mother still spoke with a heavy accent that required a lot of concentration to understand sometimes. Luckily it was something Ash was good at.
"I'm glad and I'm sure Mom is pleased."
"Yes, but we are not here tonight to discuss business."
"We aren't?"
"You know we are not."
She laughed softly. "I won't argue. I know more about my mother's business since we started dating than I ever knew before and everything I do know, I've learned from you. I'm not exactly the best choice for a partner in that kind of discussion."
"But I think you are the ideal partner for other things."
Was he teasing her again…about the sex thing that she was fairly certain he had no plans to act on? Or did he mean something else? She looked at him in confusion, but though the corner of his mouth tilted enigmatically, he said nothing.
The waiter arrived at their table and poured them each a glass of Nikos' favorite wine. She liked it, too, and had never balked at his standing order for this particular predinner drink. But she was surprised when he confirmed their food order without asking her preference. He had never done that before. But then, both he and the waiter acted as if he'd ordered before even arriving at the restaurant.
That impression was further enforced when the waiter returned to their table seconds later with appetizers.
She sniffed appreciatively at the garlic baked shrimp dripping with melted butter and topped with a grated medley of three cheeses. "My favorite."
"I know." He put a piece of shrimp on a slice of baguette, carefully drizzling the garlicy butter over it and making sure there was just the right amount of melted cheese on top before handing it to her. "I know you very well, Ashlyn."
"Do you?"