I’d rarely been in a limo before. Basically, if it wasn’t prom-related, I wouldn’t have been. Besides, the rented job I’d been in for senior prom had been crammed with a dozen kids my age and already reeked of weed and spilled champagne. The sleek model—was it a Rolls Royce?—that slid up to the curb screamed elegance. I swallowed, adjusted my clutch at my side, and hoped the crimson wrap dress I’d chosen wasn’t dipping too low over my cleavage or hugging my curves in a way that made me look overstuffed. Or desperate.
Allison swore I was hot in this, that I’d make Callum self-combust with just one glance. I wasn’t sure if she was being nice or not. I just wasn’t that girl, didn’t have Allison’s statuesque body or reigning confidence. But it felt good against my skin, and I had to hope that it had the intended effect on Callum.
Speaking of the devil, he slipped out of his side of the limo, and I had to struggle to keep my tongue in my mouth. He was wearing a well-tailored suit jacket like in the office, but this time it was paired with a black silk shirt that hugged his muscular frame. I wondered what he looked like underneath all the well-tailored clothes, and hopefully I’d be able to find out soon. He strode over to me and, bending his head low in appreciation, he reached out and pulled open the door.
“You look amazing, luv.” He looked me over, and I shivered under his scrutiny. Even I didn’t fail to notice the way his eyes concentrated on my chest as he spoke.
Huh, maybe this dress was the right one after all.
Callum smiled at me as I slid into the plush leather seat of the limo before shutting the door and sidling over and back to his side. The limo was as cushy as I’d imagined it would be with blue lights illuminating the inside, the softest bench seat, and a small bar made with crystal tumblers already splayed out on it. A bottle of scotch, its amber liquid gleaming, sat on the seat across from ours. The window and partition with the driver was already up too.
“He can’t hear us,” he said as he gestured to the black border between us and the chauffeur. “If that’s why you were staring.”
“I wasn’t staring.” Much.
The limo took off, ambling down the congested streets of Dublin on its way to the French place. Leaning back, I rested against my seat and crossed my legs. I’d chosen strappy sandals to go with the dress, something that was low-heeled and would keep me from falling. Between my klutziness and tendency to lose my balance in his presence, I wanted to play it safe.
Callum grinned and ran his fingers over my smooth shin and up my knee to my thigh. I shuddered and looked back at him. His blue eyes were almost hypnotic, seeming to mesmerize me with their power and commanding presence.
“I thought we were going to make it to the restaurant. I don’t mind doing other things, but…” I floundered.
“Vixen, we can do whatever you want. I genuinely want to get to know you, but I can’t resist touching you. Do you know what you do to me? That dress, the creamy slip of your thigh teasing me, the red coating your fuckable lips. You’re perfect.”
I felt my eyes welling up, but blinked the threatening tears away. Most of my life, I’d heard at home how I wasn’t enough, how I was the odd duck out or was such a disappointment to the family dynasty and its needs. At college, I’d thrown myself so hard into studying that I’d rarely had time to date. A few boys here or there had gone out with me, but I hadn’t ever had a man look at me like this. I’d definitely never had anyone tell me I was perfect before.
I wasn’t stupid.
I knew that men like Callum said whatever they needed to in order to seduce girls like me, but it was still amazing to hear those words out loud, something that I’d cling to desperately in days and months to come. That much I knew.
“Really?” I coughed past the lump in my throat and tried to say something, anything to sound less pathetic. Covering for my outburst of hope, I added, “You clean up well yourself. Not that you weren’t being an all large-and-in-charge businessman back at the office.”
Did I really just say that?
I groaned inwardly. Didn’t matter how you cleaned me up, I still made the nerdiest mistakes.
To my surprise, Callum chuckled and poured himself a tumbler of scotch. “You have quite the way with words. I’ve always found that charming in you yanks. Would you like a drink? I have champagne and wine as well, white or red.”
I shook my head and pushed a few errant curls out of my eyes. “Maybe later. I figure there’ll be a ton of wine at the restaurant. After all, the French are known for their wine, right?”
He nodded and sipped his drink slowly and deliberately. It gave me a flash of a Bond villain, someone so powerful and utterly in control of this scene. And yes, maybe a little dangerous too. I still wasn’t sure what Callum wanted from me. Just a “wait and see,” casual approach to dating didn’t match anything I’d ever read about him.
Maybe it didn’t matter.
I was under his spell, and I’d do anything he asked. It was the only thing that made sense to me right now, even if it was utter insanity.
“Are you nervous, luv?” he asked, his voice a low purr that made heat flare through my core and belly.
I swallowed and nodded. “Maybe a little.”
“Can I ask why?”
Because I’ll probably fall over my own two feet? Because I’ll say something too nerdy and you’ll dump me like a hot potato? Maybe because my father will murder us both if he ever finds out?
I settled on a half-truth. “I’m not exactly sure how to act.”
“Just be yourself.”
“Then I guess I’d like to ask if you’ve been to this restaurant before.”