Believer - Imagine Dragons; Too Sweet - Hozier
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Chapter Twenty-Five
Diane Dalton adjusted the hem of her emerald-green dress as she stepped into the softly lit restaurant, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Her heart was still fluttering from the tension earlier in the day, the auction debacle, Alexander Pierce's brazen charm, and, of course, Jeffrey Black's smug, infuriating presence in her life. Tonight, she had promised herself she would keep her composure. She would not give Jeffrey the satisfaction of seeing her unravel.
As she approached the table, she caught sight of him. Jeffrey was already seated, his dark hair slightly tousled, the rolled-up sleeves of his crisp white shirt revealing the lean strength of his forearms. He glanced up, and that slow, calculating smile curled across his lips, the one that made her stomach twist despite herself.
"Miss Dalton," he greeted smoothly, standing just enough to offer a brief bow, the corner of his mouth lifting in teasing amusement. "You look… strikingly beautiful."
"Thank you," Diane replied evenly, sliding into the chair across from him. "And you look… predictably infuriating." She shot him a pointed glance.
He chuckled, resting an elbow on the table, leaning slightly closer. "Predictably, yes. Infuriating, hopefully." His eyes glinted with challenge.
The waiter brought menus, and Diane barely glanced at hers. "I already know what I want."
"Of course," Jeffrey said, voice low, with a trace of mock reverence. "You always do."
The first course arrived, seared scallops with delicate truffle foam, but Diane barely touched hers. She could feel the tension coiling in her chest, a mix of lingering embarrassment from earlier events and irritation at Jeffrey's smirk, which seemed permanently etched on his face.
"So," he began, tilting his head, "are we going to pretend the auction didn't happen, or should we dissect the disaster over caviar?" His teasing tone made her grip the fork a little too tightly.
"Dissect away," Diane said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Though I don't recall needing lessons in embarrassment from you."
Jeffrey leaned in just a fraction closer, his eyes locked on hers. "Ah, but you see, I consider it my civic duty to educate the… unsuspecting." He raised an eyebrow, his smirk sharpening.
Diane's temper flared. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone. And you think a smug smile fixes that?"
"Not fixes," he countered softly, "but perhaps… enhances the experience?" His voice dipped, almost brushing against her sensibilities, a velvet tease that sent heat rushing through her.
She slammed the fork down lightly, the clatter echoing slightly in the hushed space. "You're insufferable, you know that?"
"And yet," he said, eyes darkening with an intensity that made her pulse skip, "here you are, still sitting. Still listening. Still… intriguing."
Diane's breath caught. She wanted to tell him off, to walk away, but the magnetic pull between them was undeniable. Every measured word, every glance, every subtle movement was layered with meaning. She had always prided herself on control, but this man, this infuriating, maddening, impossibly handsome man, was slowly dismantling her walls.
As the main course arrived, a perfectly cooked fillet with a red wine reduction, Diane's hand brushed against his while reaching for the bread. Both froze, their eyes locking. The restaurant noise faded, leaving only the electricity crackling between them.
"Careful," he murmured, his voice low, teasing yet dangerously intimate. "You might just set off a chain reaction with that touch."
Diane's lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm in control," she said firmly, though her pulse betrayed her.
"Are you?" he asked softly, leaning just enough that she could feel his presence overpowering her, feel the warmth radiating from him. "Because I'm not sure I believe that."
A long silence stretched, punctuated only by the clinking of silverware. Then, with a sudden laugh, Diane leaned back, trying to break the tension. "You're enjoying this far too much."
"Not enough," Jeffrey said, and for a moment, the playful veneer cracked, revealing a hint of something raw and vulnerable beneath. "You… irritate me in ways I shouldn't allow. Yet I can't stop."
Diane's eyes narrowed. "You're ridiculous."
"Maybe," he admitted softly, leaning in just a fraction closer. The space between them was electric, and she felt it, the pull, the desire, the danger. She could feel his breathe flutter on her lips "But here's the thing…"
He stopped, letting the tension simmer, his lips hovering just shy of hers for a heartbeat that stretched painfully long. Diane's own breath hitched, and her hands clenched in her lap, resisting the pull she had no words for.
Then, a server arrived with dessert, breaking the spell, chocolate torte placed between them. Diane exhaled sharply, her pulse pounding in her ears. Jeffrey's smirk returned, though now it carried a dangerous edge.
"You're impossible," she whispered, more to herself than him.
"And yet," he said, eyes twinkling with mischief, "you've survived dinner with me without throwing your wine at my face. I call that progress."
Diane's jaw tightened. "Barely."
The rest of the meal passed in a precarious balance of sharp, witty banter and unspoken tension. Each laugh, each glance, each subtle touch was layered with meaning, their chemistry undeniable, explosive, and maddening.
By the time the dessert plates were cleared, Diane felt emotionally drained, exhilarated, and… unsettlingly aware of how deeply Jeffrey had burrowed into her thoughts.
As they left the restaurant, Jeffrey offered his hand. Diane accepted it reluctantly, feeling the weight of the evening in the brush of his fingers against hers.
"Until next time," he murmured, voice low, teasing, and certain.
She met his gaze, her own heart a wild, chaotic drum. "Next time," she echoed, though a small, private part of her wondered what that could mean.
And as he watched her step into the waiting car, his smirk softened, just for a moment, betraying the storm beneath the surface, a storm only Diane Dalton seemed capable of stirring.