“Sure.”
“Anything you don’t like or have an allergy to?”
She shakes her head.
“We’ll take a bottle of my family’s Cabernet, the manicotti with Bolognese, the bleu cheese chicken gnocchi, and the house salads. Family style, please.”
“What does family style mean?” she asks when he leaves.
“They bring enough food for the entire table to share. Italians are fond of food, and we like having options. Except, of course, when it comes to our women.” I curl my hand around her nape and bring her close, tipping her chin up with my thumb. “No sharing there.”
She swallows, and I watch as her delicate neck moves. “That’s, uh, good. I think.”
“Oh, it is. Means once you’re mine, you’re mine. Do you want to be mine, Dove?”
She licks her lips, and my dick throbs. I lean into her, our lips a scant inch from one another.
“Yes,” she says breathily, her eyes a dark, gunmetal gray.
“Good answer,” I whisper against her lips before kissing her.
With this kiss, I explore her lush taste, licking inside and enjoying the sweetness her mouth has to offer. The little nymph sucks my tongue and swirls her own in tantalizing figure eights across my bottom lip. Just when I’m about to plunge my tongue into heaven more fully, the waiter clears his throat.
I reluctantly pull back from that tasty appetizer to find her eyes are still closed. A rosy hue covers her otherwise pale cheeks. She opens her eyes slowly, looking a bit dazed and thoroughly kissed. Smugness creeps into my chest while I chuckle and hold out my glass for the steward to fill it.
“As requested, your family’s wine. Is it to your liking?”
I take a sip. “Always, my man. Always. You can’t go wrong with Salerno Hills, can you?”
He nods. “Not in my time here serving it.”
Honor glances at the wine and then at me. “Your family owns a winery?”
I smile with pride. “Yep. Best damn red in the Bay.”
“That’s fantastic!” She picks up her glass, takes a healthy swig, and rolls it around her mouth before swallowing. Looks like she knows a thing or two about wine as well. “And it’s really good!”
“You act surprised. Of course it’s good. We’re Italian. My family has been making wine for decades. Centuries, really, if you go back to our family tree in Italy.”
“My family owns things too. This is so wonderful.” Her voice is a higher volume than normal, showing her excitement.
For the life of me I can’t figure out why she’s so happy my family owns Salerno Hills winery, but I don’t question it, wanting her to offer information instead of me having to drag it out of her.
Her smile is so bright, I fall in love with it instantly, wanting to see it on her face all the time. My new goal will be to put that smile on her face as much as possible.
“Really glad you think so. What does your family own?” I swirl the red in my glass, allowing it a little time to breathe.
She raises her glass and waves her other hand in the air nonchalantly. “Oh, a third of the real estate in San Francisco, another quarter in Los Angeles, and an entire five-square city block in New York. Bunch of other stuff too, businesses overseas, some sports teams, I think. Not really sure anymore.”
I set down my glass of wine and stare at her for so long, all the light leaves her eyes. Holy fuck. She doesn’t just have an inheritance. Honor Carmichael is wealthy. Insanely wealthy.
Shit. Fuck. Damn.
Chapter Ten
Plow Pose (Sanskrit: Halasana)
An inverted pose that lengthens the spine and stretches the shoulders while rejuvenating the nervous system. It’s considered an intermediate pose. Beginners should start with an assisted shoulder stand by placing a chair in front of your head. Placing your feet on the seat of the chair and stretching the body up high while supporting the lower back with your hands. Once you are comfortable, ease the legs over the head, starting with knees first and then full legs. The head and neck should be completely relaxed to allow for the throat chakra to open.
HONOR
The darkness swirling in Nick’s eyes after I blurted out some of my family’s holdings makes my stomach clench and twist. Dread prickles along my spine like tiny demons marching up and down, stabbing me with their pitchforks.
Why did I admit that?
He told me his family owns a winery. They sell the wine at this restaurant, which doesn’t look too shabby, even though it has a more casual appeal. I guess I assumed that meant he came from a financially stable background. From the hard look in his eyes, the firm set of his jaw, I’m not so sure.
“Does, um, my family’s wealth shock you?” I ask, eyes on my red wine.
Nick lifts his hand and rubs at his scruffy chin. It reminds me of how good that hair felt against my mouth when he kissed me earlier. Makes me dream of it brushing against other places. I swallow around the lump in my throat and bring the wine to my lips.
He pauses my hand at the wrist, and I place the glass back down, wrapping my fingers around the thin stem.
“Shock? No. Not a lot shocks me. Surprise? Damn straight. You just don’t seem like that type of woman.”
In a normal situation, this kind of statement would make me unerringly happy. Right now, it’s confusing, and his tone borders on condescending.
“And what type of woman would that be, Nick?” I raise my chin and focus on his hard jaw and chiseled cheek bones. The Italian Stallion nickname is accurate on so many accounts. He’s hard, dark, and beautiful at the same time.
He lifts his gaze and smirks. “Hey, hey, now. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. It’s just I’ve been around a lot of women in the past who wanted a guy with a heavy bankroll. Those are not circles I play in.”
No, no, no. He’s misinterpreting
