Page 57 of Protected in Darkness
“This’ll have to do,” she told her reflection. “He’ll either take me or leave me, right?”
Her reflection nodded, smiled.
When Penelope stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, she got a whiff of food coming from the living room.
“Good evening, Miss Calazans,” the butler greeted. “We weren’t certain whether you preferred breakfast or dinner for your evening meal, so we prepared a little of both. Steak and eggs. I hope it’s to your liking.”
“It’s perfect,” she replied, her stomach rumbling as she padded barefoot through the seating area.
The patio doors were opened wide, and she caught a glimpse of Obsidian standing near the wall surrounding the outdoor space, forearms resting on the railing, staring at the city moving below.
She paused to look at him.
The man stole her breath. She was fascinated by every single part of him. His tremendous height, impressive breadth. He was masculinity personified. Everything about him alluded to danger, a man who took no shit from anyone, didn’t care what others thought because he was secure in his own skin.
He didn’t turn when she joined him, but the butler appeared at her side, passing over a glass of…
“It’s orange juice. If you’d prefer, I could add champagne.”
“It’s fine, thank you.”
When he disappeared inside once again, Penelope moved toward Obsidian. “It’s not often you get to have dinner overlooking the strip.”
Obsidian nodded, cutting his gaze her way. “That’s true.”
“Certainly not on a patio as grand as this one.” She paused to look out at the strip. “But we seem to be making it a habit.”
He stood tall, moved to stand behind her. Penelope leaned back against him when his hands settled on her shoulders. She would’ve been content to remain just like that for the rest of the night. Just the two of them. Alone.
“Are you hungry?”
As though intending to ensure he knew how much, her stomach rumbled again, louder this time, making her chuckle.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Motioning toward the table, Obsidian steered her over.
He pulled out a chair, helped her into it before taking the one to her left. From his spot, he had full view of the interior while she had an unobstructed view of the lights from the strip.
“Why won’t you let me ask questions?” Penelope took a sip of her orange juice.
His swirling silver eyes reflected his amusement. “That sounded like a question to me.”
She grinned. “You know what I mean.”
“Because I can’t lie to you.”
The butler appeared with a bowl of fruit—grapes, cantaloupe, honeydew—along with a serving dish holding whipped cream. For whatever reason, the sight of the whipped cream made her blush, as her thoughts drifted to some rather erotic images of what Obsidian might do with it.
Foregoing silverware, Penelope snagged a couple of grapes. “What do you mean you can’t lie?”
He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “Meaning it’s impossible.”
“So, what? You’re one of those men who can’t lie to people? Very noble.”
A sexy smirk tilted the corner of his mouth. “Not people. You. And it has nothing to do with nobility.”
“Rather cryptic,” she muttered, grabbing a piece of honeydew melon before she realized Obsidian wasn’t eating. “Something wrong?”
He continued to watch her. “Not at all. I find it rather fascinating to watch you eat.”
