Brazen Bachelor

I’m about to speak when the car comes to a stop outside a high rise. The glittering gold lights blink as the red carpet leads into the apartment block that’s most probably got a magical view of Central Park.

“We’re here, Mr. King,” the driver informs Colton in a deep voice. He doesn’t get out, though, and Colton exits the vehicle before reaching in his hand, offering it to me. I accept with a smile as I tangle my fingers with his.

Once I’m out of the car, I look up and see the glass structure that peaks into the clouds.

“What are we doing here?” My voice is a whisper of surprise. I’ve seen this place from our offices on the other side of the park, but I’ve never been anywhere close to stepping inside.

“It’s the venue for the surprise I have planned,” Colton replies as he leads me toward the entrance. The door swishes open, and the security officer offers a smile before allowing us into the pristine, polished interior. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling, sparkling with golden light, bathing the whole area in a soft, warm glow.

“This place is exquisite.” My voice is awe-filled as my gaze sweeps from left to right, taking in every shiny surface. We reach the elevator, which slides open, and we step inside. Soft classical music plays from the corners of the box that lifts us into the clouds.

“I wanted to do something special,” Colton states. “We’ve both had a difficult day, and I hope this will make up for it.” There’s affection in his smile, in his expression, but I don’t allow myself to read too much into it.

I don’t have time to consider his words before the elevator comes to a stop and we’re deposited on the top floor. A set of double doors greets us, and soon enough, Colton unlocks them and pushes them open. The apartment beyond is lit in candles. Illumination comes from flickering flames, setting the mood of romance and warmth throughout the vast living room.

Floor-to-ceiling windows offer up unobstructed views of the park, which at the moment is bathed in darkness, but the buildings beyond are glittering spires against the inky sky.

I’ve never seen the city from this high up, and I’m breathless. Patio doors sit open, beckoning me to a table set for two. A large, red candle sits in the center of the pristine arrangement among plates, cutlery, and two wine glasses.

Colton’s at my back in an instant. His mouth touches my ear as he leans in close. “I hope you like it,” he whispers, sending heat and goosebumps trickling over my skin.

“This is magical,” I admit honestly. And it is. “Whose apartment is this?”

“It’s a place I’m looking at possibly purchasing. If I’m going to be working in New York for a while, I need a base. It’s something I’ve been thinking about since Blythe and I were chatting today, and when I asked the realtor if I could rent with the option to purchase, he confirmed.”

I turn around, finding Colton inches from me. Those teal eyes simmering with restrained desire, and I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. And I find myself wanting him to kiss me.

“It’s gorgeous.”

A small smile tilts his lips. “You’re gorgeous.” His accent is thick with lust, his voice low, gravelly, and I can’t stop myself from trembling at his nearness. He certainly has an effect on me, and I know it’s something that’s not going to fizzle out overnight.

“So, this is the surprise?” I ask, trying to change the subject, but Colton’s hand on my hip has my knees buckling. His other hand reaches for my chin, and he tilts my head just so I can’t look away.

“The surprise was you and me, sitting above the city having dinner while I stare at you.”

“Are you always this cheesy?” I tease him. After our pizza date last night, I think this will be a standing joke between us. A deep chuckle vibrates in his chest.

“I am. I hope you’ll get used to it because I can’t see any other way,” he professes. And my heart — the stupid bitch does flip-flops in my chest. She should know how sweet-tongued devils sound. But right now, she’s happily thrumming to the beat of Colton’s words.

“And what if I can’t?”

“Let’s sit down, and you can tell me about your day. Then we’ll have some wine, and I’ll tell you about mine.” His accent is low, a whisper of want and need, which has me wanting to nod.

But I don’t, not yet. “Why do you skirt around things?”

“Because I want us to enjoy dinner before we get to the heavy topics. I’ve been taught that a debate is always better on a full stomach.” With a cheeky wink, he leads me to the table, which is most definitely above the city. It’s almost as if we’re sitting in the clouds.