“Is he single?” Helen eyed him.

“He’s taken.” Sandra wagged her finger. “Claire’s dating him.”

I’m not dating him!

“Well, about time! Welcome to Cougar-town!” Helen laughed and took a long swig of her drink.

On any other night, I would’ve replied to her silly little remark, but it was my birthday and I didn’t feel like letting her get to me. Besides, I wasn’t a real “cougar,” she was. She hardly ever dated anyone her own age. The oldest boyfriend she’d ever had was twelve years younger than her—when she was thirty five.

“Screw you, Helen.” Sandra rolled her eyes. “You better not say anything ridiculous when he gets back over here.”

Helen made a “scouts honor” symbol with her fingers, and as if on cue, Jonathan walked back over to the table with a tray of exotic drinks.

“Cheers to the birthday girl?” He smiled.

We all nodded and tossed back a shot.

He slid into the chair next to me and placed his hand on my thigh.

I immediately felt myself getting hot, so I brushed his hand away and crossed my legs.

Why did I let Sandra talk me into going commando tonight?

“So Jonathan...” Helen purred. “What exactly do you do for a living?”

She knows the answer to this already...Why is she asking him that?

Jonathan put his hand back on my thigh. “I’m the CEO of Statham Industries. And yourself?”

“Interesting! I’m a lawyer at my own law firm, Donovan and Fitz. It’s actually one mile away from your company. How did you become the CEO at such a young age?”

“I started the company when I was still in college. It was just a side thing at first—charging people twenty or thirty bucks here or there to install all types of systems on their phones or laptops, but then I realized that I could build phones and computers from scratch; that I could do a much better job than some of the bigger computer companies. So, my professor helped me to write up a business plan and I showed off the best products I’d developed. Then I got a few investors and professors on board with the condition that I would be the CEO and the company’s namesake. I made a profit the very first year and the rest is history.”

Wow...

“Very impressive.” Helen nodded. “It must be a pretty hectic life. What do you do in your free time, and why aren’t you married already? I’m sure someone like you has lots of beautiful options to choose from.”

What the hell is she doing?!

I was glaring at her, silently begging her to stop making him uncomfortable, but he didn’t look the slightest bit bothered by her insane questioning. He looked calm and in control.

He began strumming my thigh with his fingertips. “I work out, travel, and collect yachts in my spare time.”

Did he just say “yachts”? As in plural?

“And the reason you’re not married yet is because? Are you too rich to be tied down? Having too much fun sleeping with a different woman every night?”

God, please strike her down now...

Sandra was giving Helen the most evil side-glare in history. It looked like she was about to claw her eyes out.

“No...” He smiled. “That’s definitely not it. I guess I haven’t found the right woman yet.”

“Okay, I’m going to the bar to get a stronger drink.” Sandra shook her head.

“I’ll get it for you.” Jonathan released my thigh and stood up. “A stronger version of what you had before?”

Sandra nodded.

“Helen, you too?”

“Yes.” She batted her eyes.

“Claire?” He smiled his dreamy smile and I lost my words.

I shook my head and he walked away.

“Helen! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sandra fumed. “I told you not to—”

“Calm down, calm down.” Helen snorted. “I was just having fun. He’s clearly into Claire. He’s been eye fucking her all night.”

“Helen!” I shook my head.

“Don’t Helen me! It’s the truth. He’s eye fucking you right now, from all the way over there. And you’ve been doing it too so get over yourself. You two should just get it over with. The private bathrooms here are really nice. Hint, hint.”

I burst into laughter. I should’ve known Helen was only toying with him. She too often took pleasure in testing the threshold of people’s nerves.

Jonathan walked back over and set down more drinks. “Golden Paradise for you Sandra.” He slid it across the table. “Triple chocolate cloud for you, Helen. And for you,” he said as he reached for my hand, “would you like to dance with me?”

“Sure.” I slid out of my chair and clasped his hand.

He led me down two sets of stone carved steps, to the front of the stage where an orchestra was beginning to play.

He placed my hands around his neck and wrapped his arms around my waist, swaying me to a song I’d never heard before. We were so close to one another that I was breathing in his scent—a heavenly spicy smell that enveloped me and made me never want to let go of him.

“How was your day today, Claire?”

“Good. Yours?”

“Awful.” He pulled me even closer. “Until now.”

I really should have worn panties...

“You know, I could’ve sworn that my car didn’t have customized leather seats and tinted windows when I gave it to you the other day.”

“It didn’t?” He smiled.

“No...Thank you very much though. And I appreciate the table upgrade too.”

“You’re very welcome.”

The lights on the dance floor suddenly went black, and small twinkling lights began to shimmer from above.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s officially midnight!” the maestro spoke. “For those of you who are new to Havana, the next ten minutes on the dance floor will be spent underneath the stars!”

The lights transformed from black to dark purple, to mystic blue and then back to black as the orchestra began to play a mid-tempo version of Nora Jones’ “The Nearness of You.”

“You look amazing tonight.” Jonathan rubbed the small of my back.

I could only nod my head in thanks; that one brush of his fingertips had nearly melted me into the floor.

We continued dancing in silence, and I noticed that the lights were dimming darker and darker; the twinkling stars that were once so bright were flickering fainter and fainter.

As he held me close, I couldn’t help but feel a bit insecure. I knew Helen had only been joking earlier, but she had a point: Someone like Jonathan could definitely have any woman he wanted—a busty blond Swedish supermodel, a sexy high profile actress, anyone. Anyone more established—and probably much younger, than me.

“Do you normally wear dresses like this when you go out?” He tugged at the back of my dress.

“Why?”

“I’m just wondering.”

“Wondering why someone my age would wear something so revealing? Is that what you thought when you first saw me tonight? You don’t have to beat around the bush.” I rolled my eyes.

He sighed. “Are you really that hung up on your age?”

Unfortunately yes...

“No.” I looked up at him. “I just find it a bit odd that you aren’t. I’m not sure what to make of it yet, and the fact that you just asked me about my dress makes me think—”

“Do you want to know what I was thinking when I first saw you tonight, Claire?”

“Yes...”

“You want an honest answer or a politically correct one?”

“Honest.”

“Okay.” He released me from his arms and stepped away.

Before I could wonder where he’d gone, I felt my back pressed against his chest and his hands wrapped around my hips.

“When I first saw you tonight,” he lowered his voice and whispered in my ear, “I wanted to drag you out of here, drive you home, and fuck you in every room of my house for the rest of the weekend.”

I gasped.

“The only reason I asked about your dress is because it looks good on you—very very good on you, and if we were to date I would hope to see more like it.” He hugged me tighter. “So, can you please stop reminding me about the age thing? I honestly wouldn’t give a damn if you were sixty.”