Before he had a chance to say anything, I wrapped both arms around his neck, combed my fingers through his hair, and pressed my body against his. The moment still hadn’t caught up with him, but it never took them long to catch up. When I crushed my mouth to his, he actually groaned. His arms wound around me until his hands grabbed any part of my hip or butt he could get a hold of.

I always removed myself from my body during physical encounters. It was the only way to preserve whatever sense of self I still had. It felt as if I was watching what was taking place, not actually experiencing it. Somehow, that made it easier.

When my tongue played with the opening of his mouth, his arms tightened around me, and he let out a low growl. I felt his length grow against my body, and that was my cue to back off. Tonight wasn’t the night. Tonight was, appropriate given the location, the tease. It was a reminder of just how badly he wanted me. If a serious hard-on wasn’t a reminder of what my body did to his, I would be unemployed in the morning.

Sucking his lower lip into my mouth—any kind of sucking drove most men up the wall—I slowly pulled back, releasing his lip and lowering my arms.

He was breathing heavily, his pupils were dilated, and from his expression, I didn’t doubt he was seriously considering tossing everything off of the table before throwing me onto it.

“What in the hell was that?” Daniel asked as I moved toward the chairs at the table.

“That was a Hey, how are you doing? without using words,” I answered, adjusting my dress where he’d rumpled it. I shot him a coy smile before sitting. “You like?”

Daniel lifted his eyebrows. “I like.” He smoothed his hands down his tux, his breathing back to normal, before taking the seat across from me. “Is it too early in the date to ask when I get to experience the Hey, how are you doing? fuck?”

Charming to a flaw. Not.

“I’ll save you the suspense and tell you now that you are not getting any kind of laid, screwed, or fucked tonight,” I said, leaning forward in my seat. “Now that that’s out of the way, can we have dinner?”

“You’re going to kiss me like that without so much as a Hello first, and then proceed to tell me we’re not going to end up horizontal between the sheets tonight?” He sounded almost amused.

I lifted my eyebrows in answer.

“Cruel.”

The door I’d just come through opened again, and a white-coated waiter approached.

“You really went all out tonight,” I said. “Were you hoping to impress me or something?”

Daniel smiled into the night. “Or something,” he said, “but since you’ve made it quite clear I’m not getting any tonight, I suppose I’ll have to settle for impressing you.” He leaned across the table. The candlelight cast stark shadows and highlights over his angular face. “So? Are you impressed?”

Two steps forward. One back. That was the theme of the tease. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know later.”

Daniel exhaled, then glanced up at the silent waiter. “Bring Sienna a bottle of the Petrus.”

“Actually, I’ll take the Chateau Margaux,” I said. “And I’ll have a glass.”

Daniel gave me a sheepish smirk. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Oldest trick in the book. And the most tired one as well.”

“Thank you for the education,” Daniel said before addressing the waiter. “I’ll take a double scotch on the rocks.”

Double scotch on the rocks. I could have called that from the moment I saw Daniel. If any man fit the double-scotch-on-the-rocks profile, he did. A man’s drink of choice said a lot about him. It wasn’t always accurate to the letter, but it gave an overall assessment. Double scotch on the rocks meant a man knew what he wanted, was used to getting it, and liked the finer things in life. He didn’t hear the word no often, and when he did, he almost always turned it into a yes. I’d had my fair share of double-scotch-on-the-rocks Targets.

After the waiter left, I felt Daniel’s eyes on me in that way again. In that predatory, stalking cat kind of way. If I hadn’t been trained to the nines, that look would have made me squirm in my chair.

“So. The Pleasure Room,” I said. “What got you into the pleasure business?”

Daniel shook his head once. “No. I don’t want to talk about my backstory. Or yours.”

Not a big surprise, but he was the first Target I’d had who put it out there like that.

“Why? Got your fair share of secrets and skeletons in the closet?” Of course he did. I already knew every last one of them.

“No one’s gotten anywhere in life by dwelling on their past,” he answered. “I certainly didn’t get where I am by wallowing in the highs and lows of mine.”

“So what? Do you want me to talk about my future? My goals? Dreams? Ambitions?” I said with a hint of sarcasm.

“No.” Daniel gave his head another shake. “The future is for my investors and advisors. I want to talk about right now.” His eyes slid down my neck, taking their time on my breasts, before making the return journey. “I want to know what you want and how you want it.”

I sucked in a breath. “And why do you want to know that?”

One side of Daniel’s mouth curved up. “So I can give it to you.”

He didn’t even attempt to disguise his meaning.

The door whooshed open again as the waiter returned. Daniel’s gaze didn’t shift when the waiter placed our drinks in front of us. They didn’t waver until long after the waiter had exited again. I didn’t doubt that that kind of intensity had broken through plenty of women’s defenses, but it wouldn’t break through mine. Nothing he could send my way would break down my defenses.

“To the present,” he said at last, lifting his glass toward me.

I raised my glass and tilted my head. “To getting what you want.”

“How you want it,” he added, before clinking his glass to mine.

We both took a long sip of our drinks. I knew how marvelous the wine was, I’d had it plenty of times before when I’d felt quite certain it alone could make me orgasm, but I barely tasted it. My mind needed to stay sharp, my body just as sharp. I couldn’t let the wine mess with me.

“Why are you here right now?” he asked suddenly.

I swept my eyes around. “The view’s hard to beat. And you look good in a tux.”

“I know I’m not your first older man,” he said, taking another sip of his scotch. He was right about that. “Unless you’ve been playing with the trust-fund Hampton boys, no girl your age knows what Chateau Marguex is unless she’s been with her fair share of older, wealthy men.”

I lifted a shoulder. “Those rich little Hampton boys only drink appletinis anyway.”

“Why are you drawn to the older man then?” Daniel asked. as the waiter made his appearance again, setting a couple of wedge salads in front of us.

I met his stare. “Experience. And if they’re single and older, that means they’re not looking for commitment—which holds no interest for me—and they have fewer inhibitions.”

“Fewer inhibitions in the bedroom?”

I shook my head before taking another sip of wine. “Fewer inhibitions in every room.”

Daniel wet his lips as his expression darkened with desire. Rising from his seat, he approached me. His eyes never left mine until he rounded my chair. “Fewer inhibitions on rooftops, too,” he said just outside my ear as his hands dropped to my shoulders. Daniel’s hands were large, and even in that intimate touch, I knew he wanted me to feel the strength in them. He wanted me to feel his physical superiority. He wanted me to feel just enough helpless.

That might have worked if I hadn’t put the whole series of events into motion in the first place. He was only there, touching me, because I’d orchestrated it.

His hands roamed down, thumbs skimming my collar bones, before they slid under my dress. I kept my breathing regular, I didn’t shift in my seat, and I tilted my head back so he could see my feigned expression of pleasure.