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“But where?”
    The side of his mouth twitched into a half
smile.   “You are awfully inquisitive
tonight, Ms. Holloway.”
    “You’re awfully secretive tonight, Mr. Cutler,”
I teased back.
    He smiled at me, but I saw the look that
crossed his face.   Apprehension?   Excitement?   My stomach
flipped and flopped.   Could he
really be about to ask me to marry him?  
    I thought of him down on one knee, slipping a
ring on my finger, promising to stay with me forever.   I shivered.  
    “You cold?” Noah asked.
    “No.”   I shook my head.   “No, I’m
fine.”
    He brought me to Le Meilleur ,
an exclusive French fusion restaurant in the middle of Midtown.   It was on the top floor of its building,
the expansive windows giving the restaurant three hundred and sixty degree
views of the city.   The maître’d nodded to Noah in greeting before whisking us away
to a table in front of the windows.
    Noah held my chair out for me, and the maitre’d
slipped away.
    I glanced around the opulent restaurant, with
its circular tables, crisp linens, and crystal chandeliers.   The lights were set low, and the sun was
just setting, casting a rosy   glow over the room.  
    Candles burned on each table, their flames
dancing.
    The room was huge, and the sweeping views of
the city made it seem even bigger than it was, like there was no end to the
restaurant, like it bled into the city, becoming one with the buildings and the
sky around it.
    I picked up my napkin and set it carefully in
my lap.
    “Is this… is the restaurant closed?” I asked.
    “What?”
    “There’s no one else here.”
    “I bought it out.”
    “You bought out the entire restaurant?”
    “Yes.”
    “Oh.”   I swallowed, not even able to comprehend how much something like that
must have cost.   I wasn’t a foodie –
I didn’t have the money or the interest -- but even I knew about Le Meilleur .   It
was insanely expensive, and insanely hard to get into.
    There’d been an article about it in New York Magazine
a couple of months ago, touting the chef and declaring it New York’s most
exclusive hotspot.   There was a
waiting list of over a year for a reservation.   For Noah to have
bought out the restaurant must have cost him tens of thousands of
dollars.
    It was the kind of thing he would only have done
if it were a special night.
    The kind of night you would remember forever.
    The kind of night you would get engaged.
    My pulse pounded so hard I could feel it in the
hollow of my throat, and I grabbed my glass of water and took a long sip in an
effort to calm myself.
    Noah leaned back in his chair and grinned at me
wickedly, his eyes sparkling.
    “What?”   I asked.
    “Nothing.”
    “It must be something.”
    “I was just thinking about the last time we
were out eating together.   Do you
remember that?”
    “Of course I remember it.   You got arrested on the way out.”
    He shook his head, like that was all a distant
memory, and not something that had just come to a horrible conclusion only a
few days ago.   “I was thinking about
what we did in the bathroom.”
    Heat flooded my body.
    I remembered that, too.
      The
way I’d knocked on the door and offered myself to him, the way I’d gotten down
on my knees and sucked his cock, how hard he’d fucked me, holding me against
the door, his pelvis pounding into me.
    “Do you remember that, Charlotte?” he asked,
and his hand was on my knee, moving up, pushing the bottom of my dress up a
tiny bit.
    “Yes.”   I swallowed as his fingers moved over my skin in soft, slow swirls.
    “Did you like that?”
    “Yes.”
    “Yes, what?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    My pulse pounded harder, my breathing becoming
more pronounced.   I could feel the
heat on my cheeks.   I loved the way
he had fucked me last night, the way he’d moved   inside of me, the way he’d made
love to me.   But there was a part of
me that needed this too, a part of me that wanted to connect with him in this
powerful