Crave (Splendor Book 2) (8 page)

Tessa laughed, and took the Coach handbag from Marlene. The older woman was also carrying a large paper shopping bag which she handed to Tessa.

“This has all the things you were wearing when you arrived,” she explained.

“I’ll take that,” offered Ian, thinking of how much he longed to burn the damned raincoat that he could see folded on top of the bag. “And I must thank you for taking such excellent care of Tessa. I didn’t think perfection could be improved upon, but I believe I’ve been proven wrong. She looks - breathtaking.”

Marlene smiled. “She certainly does. And the two of you make quite an attractive pair if I may say so. You’ll certainly have every eye in the place on you, wherever you might be headed this evening.”

Ian shook her hand. “My thanks again, Mrs. Brennan. You’ve outdone yourself. I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of Tessa before too long.”

“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Gregson,” replied Marlene smoothly. “She’s been a joy to work with, and I would adore the opportunity to help her in the future.”

“Thank you for everything,” Tessa told Marlene, giving her a shy hug. “I’m sorry if I was a lot of trouble.”

“Dear, I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed working with a customer more than I did today,” assured Marlene. “You were no trouble at all. And Mr. Gregson is right - you are breathtaking. Now go do me proud and dazzle everyone you see.”

As Ian guided Tessa to the elevators, he wanted nothing more than to pull her in close for a long, deep kiss. But he was unfortunately all too aware of the curious pairs of eyes that followed them along, and he chose instead to merely keep a light hand on the small of her back. Once inside the elevator, which was occupied, much to his chagrin, he took hold of her hand as though they were teenagers, and received a bright smile in return from Tessa. Unable to resist her a moment longer, and not giving a damn who was looking, he pulled her against him for a soft, lingering kiss.

When he lifted his head, the elevator was stopping at the ground floor, everyone around them was smiling indulgently, and Tessa’s eyes were as shiny as the sapphire at her throat.

“Come along, darling,” he murmured, tucking her against his side. “Cinderella’s carriage awaits.”

The “carriage”, of course, was the black town car that Ian utilized primarily for business purposes, or if he thought he might have a bit more than usual to drink at an event. He introduced Tessa to Simon, noticing as he did so that the chauffeur displayed not the slightest surprise at meeting his very beautiful - and very young - companion for the evening. Ian offered up a silent thanks that the silver-haired Welshman was as discreet as he was capable - not that Ian was in the habit of engaging in amorous activities in the backseat of the vehicle by any means. He was a firm believer in discretion, and that there was a time and a place for everything. He was too old now, and had always been too straight-laced, to ever seriously consider having sex in a public place or even his car. The privacy of his own home, or the owner’s suite at one of the company’s hotels was a different matter entirely. Especially if the blonde beauty currently snuggled against his side was closeted up in the room with him.

He kept an arm about Tessa’s shoulders during the short drive to the restaurant. The top of her silky hair brushed up against his nose, and he inhaled deeply of the scent of her shampoo.

“Your hair smells like cinnamon and vanilla,” he murmured, then pressed a kiss to her temple. He took a long, shiny strand of her hair between his fingers. “And it feels like silk.”

Tessa nodded. “I love how soft and shiny it is right now. I’m such a klutz with a blow dryer that I could never get it to look like this. The stylist wanted to cut some of it, but we didn’t have enough time.”

“Good.” He nuzzled his face into her hair. “I like your hair long.”

She patted his arm reassuringly. “It was only going to be a couple of inches, just a trim. I like my hair long, too.”

Ian captured her mouth in a soft kiss. “Then I’ll take you back to the salon soon when there’s more time. Or to any other salon you’d prefer if this one wasn’t to your liking.”

“It was perfect,” she told him. “They treated me like a queen. Or a movie star. But I can’t let you keep doing things like that.”

“Why not? I told you earlier today that I intended to spoil you, and I meant it.”

Tessa looked uneasy. “I just don’t feel right letting you buy me all these things. I mean, I know I’ve worked for you for over two years but, well, we don’t really
know
each other.”

He tucked her glossy hair behind one ear. “I know that, Tessa,” he said gently. “And I certainly don’t want to overwhelm you or make you feel uncomfortable. I think perhaps I’ve just wanted for so long now to be with you and take care of you that I’m probably coming on a bit too strong. We’ll take this as slowly as you want to, all right, love?”

She nodded, then gave him an impish little grin. “Well, not
too
slowly.”

Ian laughed and hugged her close. “I’ll let you call the shots then, shall I? Now, you haven’t asked me where we’re having dinner.”

Tessa shrugged. “Anyplace you choose is fine with me. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with most of the restaurants in San Francisco, just the few little places in my neighborhood. And I’m guessing we aren’t going to Zen Sushi or El Toro Taqueria.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Your guess would be correct. I think we’d both be a bit overdressed for either of those fine establishments. No, this evening we’re dining at Le Mistral. Have you heard of it?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Is it French?”

He picked up her hand and kissed it. “
Oui, mademoiselle
. It’s very French and very romantic. And best of all, they have private dining rooms so that you and I can, ah, get to know each other.”

Tessa had a wistful look on her face. “You speak French, don’t you? So does Julia. I heard her talking to Henri again the last time she was in the office.”

“Yes, though my French is not quite as good as Julia’s. I also speak Italian and Spanish and some German and Portuguese.”

She used her thumb to trace a little pattern over their clasped hands. “You’re so smart and accomplished. I love hearing you talk at meetings. Not that I always understand what’s being discussed, but I just like the sound of your voice.”

Grateful for the unquestionable discretion of his chauffeur, Ian hauled her against him and gave her a deep, searing kiss, her softly spoken words far more arousing than he could properly express. At the sound of her low but audible moan, he reluctantly lifted his head, only to whisper in a husky tone, “I hope you’ll like hearing all the things I plan on saying to you when we’re alone. And I’ll be sure to say them in English so that you understand every single word.”

He felt her quiver in arousal against him, and knew that if he slid his hand inside her coat he would find the hardened peak of her nipple.

“It’s okay,” she whispered back. “Even if I can’t really understand you, I think hearing you speak French or Italian would be incredibly romantic. And sexy.”

Ian groaned. “I fear that when I take you to my bed I’m going to forget my own damned name, much less how to say it in French.”

Simon pulled up to the restaurant moments later, holding the back door open as Ian exited first, then assisted Tessa out. It was a chilly evening, and he smiled indulgently as she snuggled deeper into her new coat.

“I’m developing a serious case of envy for that coat,” he grumbled as he opened the door to the restaurant.

She giggled as she preceded him inside. “How can you be envious of a coat?”

He slid his arms around her waist, hugging her back against his chest. “Because it’s wrapped around your body, and I’d give anything at this moment to change places with it.”

He pressed a little closer against her buttocks, and he knew from the little gasp she made that she could feel the heavy ridge of his erection, even through the fabric of her coat. He was grateful that he was wearing a black wool overcoat of his own, which he quickly buttoned before approaching the host stand to hide his rather obvious arousal.

Ian patronized this restaurant often enough that many of the staff knew him by name. Tonight the maître d’ himself - Victor - greeted Ian, who then introduced him to Tessa.

“Welcome to Le Mistral,
Mademoiselle
,” greeted Victor as he shook Tessa’s hand. “I can guarantee that you will have the most wonderful meal of your life this evening. Now, if you please, follow me to your table. You are in the Blue Room as requested,
Monsieur
Gregson.”

The Blue Room was a small, private dining room that could hold up to a dozen guests comfortably. Ian had hosted a number of business dinners here, as well as entertained family members when they had visited. But for tonight he and Tessa would be the only occupants.

As he took Tessa’s coat and hung it on the corner rack, he smiled to observe her reaction as she took in the truly fabulous interior of the private room. A fresco in blues and golds had been painted on the domed ceiling; the walls were papered in a blue and cream stripe; and the thick carpet beneath their feet was of a lush shade of blue. Ian was thankful to note that the large dining table that was usually in this room had been temporarily moved out and replaced with a much smaller, more intimately sized one. It was set with pristine white linens, exquisite blue floral china, gleaming flatware, and fine crystal, the high backed chairs upholstered in a pale blue fabric.

Tessa’s eyes were wide with wonder as she turned to him. “This is so lovely. Like a palace. I’ve never been anywhere like this before.”

Her heartfelt confession tugged at his emotions, and he feared he was going to continue discovering just how little Tessa had experienced or been given in her life thus far.

“I’m glad you like it,” was all he said in reply. “I entertain business associates here quite a lot, and the food is just about the best in the city. And,” he added, “there’s the extra bonus of these private rooms. I doubt we’d run into anyone from the office here this evening but it’s always a possibility.”

“Oh.” Tessa bit her bottom lip, as though that thought hadn’t occurred to her until now. “You’re sure it’s all right?”

“Yes, it’s fine. Not to mention that Victor is extremely discreet and would never dream of telling anyone that I was here this evening. We’ll need to talk some about how we’re going to have to conduct ourselves around the office, but that can keep. For now, let’s have a seat, shall we?”

Their waiter entered the room just after they had seated themselves, and Ian grinned broadly as he greeted the man.

“I was hoping they’d assign you to this table, Roland,” he told the waiter. “This is Miss Lockwood, my dining companion. Tessa, Roland is the very best waiter here at Le Mistral. I know he’ll take excellent care of us this evening.”

Roland, a short, slightly rotund man with an Eastern European accent, told Tessa how delighted he was to meet her and assured her that Mr. Gregson was correct - he would strive to take very good care of them.

Tessa looked a bit uncertain when Roland asked for their cocktail orders. “I’m, ah, not sure.”

Ian swiftly came to her rescue. “I’ll have my usual, please. As for the lady - let’s see. Do you like lemonade, Tessa?”

She nodded, visibly grateful for his assistance. “Yes, very much.”

“Then a lemon drop for the lady, Roland.”

Roland bustled off to get their drinks and Tessa smiled at Ian in relief.

“Thank you for that. I’m not much of a drinker,” she confessed. “Just a little wine or champagne on occasion. Peter - he didn’t like keeping alcohol around the apartment.”

“Why was that?” Ian inquired curiously.

Tessa paused for a moment before replying. “He grew up with an alcoholic mother who was also abusive. Peter had a rough time of it with her and just couldn’t handle having any liquor around as a result.”

Ian nodded. “That’s perfectly understandable. And you don’t ever have to feel pressure to drink if you don’t choose to, Tessa.”

A busboy entered the room while they waited for their cocktails, filling water glasses and setting out a basket of assorted breads and a beautifully arranged plate of olives, charcuterie, and pates. Roland arrived a moment later with their drinks - the lemon drop in a frosted martini glass for Tessa, and Ian’s preferred blend of single malt Scotch in a heavy crystal tumbler.

“Sir, I’ll leave the menus for you to look over at your leisure. Enjoy your cocktails,” offered Roland.

Alone again, Ian picked up his glass and clinked it lightly against Tessa’s. “To getting to know each other,” he toasted with a gentle smile.

Her cheeks flushed fetchingly as she smiled in agreement and took a tentative sip of her drink.

“It’s delicious,” she told him. “Thank you for suggesting it.”

“My pleasure, darling. And while it may taste like lemonade it’s a great deal stronger, so sip it slowly, all right?” he cautioned.

She nodded. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry if all of this is so new to me. I’m sure all the other women you date must be -”

“Stop.” He placed a finger over her lips. “First, I believe I already told you not to apologize for anything. And second, despite what you might think, there have actually been very few women I’ve dated in my life. Especially not in the past two years.”

Tessa was gaping at him in surprise. “But there are always photos of you in the newspaper and - and Gina and Alicia are always talking about who you escorted to this event or the other.”

Ian shook his head in mild disgust. “Don’t believe anything those two shrews say, especially Alicia. I’m well aware of how much they gossip, but I promise you they know next to nothing about my personal life. Suffice it to say that attending a social function with a female friend or acquaintance doesn’t always equate to dating her.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I know this is all new to you, Tessa. And while I never want to make you feel ill at ease, at the same time it makes me very happy to know that I’ll have the honor of introducing you to a great many pleasures. Both in and out of my bed.”