Julien finally pushes his plate away and leans back, his own glass of wine in hand. He appraises me from overtop of his glass as he drinks – his eyes feel so judging. I sip at my wine, trying not to look him in the eye. He doesn't look like a monster tonight. He looks like a very pale and very handsome man.
"So, Eve," he says and leans forward, licking his lips, his tongue lingering a little too long on his bottom lip. "Did you miss me?"
I put my glass down with a bit too much force and the wine sloshes around, a few drops spilling out. Bastard! I mop it up with my napkin and then look at him, trying my best to keep my face neutral.
"Did you miss me?" I say.
"I sure missed those sweet dimples of yours." He smiles, not wide, just a bit, his expression dark, lusty. "And your nice round ass."
I can't help it – my body responds to his words. How is that possible? How could he affect me like that with just a few words when I was hating him?
Despite my resolve, I take a sip of my wine, a big sip. I say nothing, just glance around at the deserted restaurant, at the white tablecloths, the good silver cutlery, the dark mahogany woodwork, the polished hardwood floors. Anything but his leering face.
He holds up his wineglass.
"I propose a toast, to me, to my success on my trip."
I hold my glass up and touch his.
"Congratulations."
I take another sip. The wine is rather nice, not that I know anything about wine, but it feels smooth against my tongue and has a nice aftertaste. I relax a bit more and lean against the deeply cushioned banquette seat.
Julien tries to pour more wine into my glass.
"No, please," I say, trying to cover my glass, but he insists. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"
"You seem to need a bit of softening up so I thought I'd ply you with liquor." He fills my glass almost to the rim. "Besides, all work and no play makes for a dull girl."
"I feel dull," I say, the warmth in my belly and in my veins making me lose my resolve not to engage him. "Mentally dull."
"You think too much. Just 'be'," he says, waving his fingers at me. "Let life happen. Don't always try so hard to be in control. Give in."
"Give in to you."
He smiles, his eyes narrowing.
"Now you're talking."
I sigh, the wine making me feel loose.
"Why should I give in? I need to have some self-respect."
"Eve," he says, leaning forward. "You like it when a man takes control." He leans a little closer, looking at me over his wine glass. "Really."
"I thought you weren’t into the whole obedience thing."
"I'm into pleasure. Now, drink up," he says and waves at my glass. "It's time to go."
I take a sip, but there's almost half a glass left and I feel far too warm already.
"No, no, no," he says and shakes his head. "All of it." He mimes lifting a glass to his lips and waits, his eyebrows raised.
I take a deep breath and comply, the wine sliding down my throat, warming my stomach.
"That's my girl," he says and takes my arm, helping me up from the table. He wraps my coat around me from behind and nuzzles his face against the back of my neck for just a moment. He inhales deeply and the touch of his lips on my skin makes my knees feel weak. He practically holds me up as we walk out the door, Vasily paying the bill.
Damn. I laugh at myself as I plop onto the back seat of the car.