When they finished their meal, Damon asked for the bill and paid.
Evelyn dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin, leaning back in her seat. She was stuffed.
The faint glimmer of the city lights outside bathed her face in silver and gold, outlining her lashes and the curve of her cheek. Damon watched her, feeling a sense of satisfaction creeping into him.
He had meant this dinner to be a simple outing. A quiet, relaxed setting to bridge that invisible space between them.
But as he watched her smile faintly while taking one last sip of her drink, he wondered if he'd succeeded too well.
He felt himself lowering his guard, forgetting how easily this woman could undo him.
The waitress returned the card and receipt with a practiced smile before gliding away.
Damon stood and pulled Evelyn's chair back. She rose, adjusting her coat. The faint scent of her perfume lingered in the air and he willed himself not to sniff.
That was way too perverted.
