The Plaza was maybe the grandest hotel in the city, and not far from where West lived. Once they arrived, they were escorted into one of its restaurants, a sumptuous maroon velvet and polished mahogany evening bar. Soft live jazz was playing.

“Where is this?” Winnie hissed to West as they were guided to a plush private corner table.

“The Rose Club.” He helped her into her seat as some uniformed waiters rushed over carrying elegant menus. “Please sit.”

She did, trying to ignore the waiters’ lingering looks. Her dress was very tight and very feminine. “It’s gorgeous here.”

“I’m glad you think so. This used to be one of the city’s best places to see and be seen.”

Winnie colored slightly. This was some kind of society bar, then. Classy.

“Do you want me to order for us?” West asked.

She was impressed that he knew a gentleman was supposed to order for a lady, but even more impressed that he checked to see if she wanted him to do that. It was, admittedly, antiquated.

“Yes. Please.”

“Drinks too?”

She hesitated. “Yes, please, that would be great. But I don’t like manly drinks. I like girly drinks.”

He nodded, considering the menus for a moment—but only a moment, an eyeblink—before putting them aside. She could see why he did so well in fast-paced finance if he could make decisions that quickly and decisively.

“Did you enjoy the Whitney?” he asked, focusing his full attention on her.

“Yes. I love all that Modernist pre-war art. Kandinsky and Mondrian and all that.”

He looked impressed.

“Don’t be shocked. I know some things,” she offered, trying not to pluck at one of her sleeves. “Not a ton. But some things. And Wikipedia helps.”

“I’m not shocked. And Mondrian is very good,” West said, smiling. “What do you think of the city, Tam?”

He’d called her Tam. Her heart fluttered like a butterfly in a jar. “It’s like being in a postcard. Fifth Avenue? Bergdorf Goodman? The Plaza?” She gave him her best smile. “Thank you, West. I’m having a fantastic time.”

“My pleasure. While you’re here, you’ll be the queen of this town,” he said, gazing at her with his strange, gorgeous eyes. She felt like a glass of fine liquor he wanted to drink.

“Well, if you ever come to Wolfpine, you can be king.” Ugh, dumb. Did I really just say that? Flustered, she checked her hair. It was still pinned perfectly, although some of it was escaping her updo.

He laughed. “I’ll remember that. Tam, I didn’t ask you what you do.”

“Oh. Well . . .” She swallowed, glancing at her nail polish. It was mint green and just beginning to chip. “I was actually a waitress until very recently.” Which is to say, I’m not good enough for you.

But he nodded as if that was interesting. “I see. And is restauranteuring your passion?”

“Oh, no. Actually, if I could choose any job, I’d work in pediatrics. It’s just that the actual technical education is . . . well. Medical school is expensive.” This was an embarrassing conversation to have with someone as dazzlingly wealthy as West, so she changed tack. She didn’t want to sound like she was begging for tuition. Blech. “My sister, Lila, is a nurse, though. There’s a Catholic hospital in Wolfpine, Saint Juliana’s. She loves it, but it’s very hard work, of course. Caring for people always is.”

He nodded, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. “So you both want to help people. You have good blood, Winnie.”

She tilted her head, considering that. What a weird way to compliment someone’s family . . . but she kind of liked it. “Thanks, West.”

A waiter materialized. “Good evening, sir. Drinks?”

West glanced at Winnie appreciatively. “For the lady, a raspberry sherry.”

“Very good, sir. And you?”

“Cognac.” He specified a deliriously expensive variety.

“Excellent.” The waiter dipped and disappeared.

“Raspberry sherry?” Winnie asked.

“Good?” West asked, smiling. His smile made her skin feel hot, and she nodded.

It was only a few moments before their drinks arrived. West’s was amber-and-liquor-smelling. Hers smelled of fresh, dewy raspberries and had the smooth sting of alcohol, perfect for her. West ordered their food and the waiter vanished again.

“This is a lovely choice. Thank you,” Winnie said, turning her drink. The glass was as cold as ice. “It’s really good.” She eyed him. “What about your fam, West? Do you ever go back to Washington?”

His expression changed slightly. “No. Almost never.”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. Was that an insensitive question?”

“It wasn’t. No.” He shifted, leaning an arm on the table to be a little closer to her. “I said I was the black sheep of my family, but it’s more than that. They didn’t want me to leave, Winnie. They didn’t want me to work here. We had a falling out over it.”

“I don’t see how they could object,” she said, shocked. Her pretty brow furrowed. “You have an amazing job. An amazing life.”

“Does it seem like that?” he asked, amused. “Well, they don’t see it that way. In their view, we all belong together, and we should all stay on our land and inside our own territory. They’re a little . . . unusual, you see.”

Was he born into a weirdo cult or something? “A lot of families like the kids to stick close to home, I guess,” she offered lamely.

“That’s true. But” —he straightened— “we’re not totally estranged.”

“No?”

“No. You asked if I ever go to Washington? I don’t. But I buy land there, as much as I can afford and as comes onto the market, and I add it to my family’s holdings.”

Land is so expensive, she thought breathlessly. So, so expensive. Millions of dollars.

“I hope they appreciate what you do for them,” she said, a little more firmly than she meant to. It just seemed like such a grand gesture of love to her. They should appreciate it.

“I think they do. I don’t know. We rarely talk.”

“Their loss.”

He laughed, and she colored. “Thank you, Winnie.”

Suddenly, the waiters were there with the food—beautiful, immaculate food, chilled oysters, Gruyère and Comté cheeses, sturgeon caviar, Skuna bay salmon—and the table was crowded with gorgeous dishes.

“Oh, my God,” she said, cocktail in hand. “This is amazing.”

“Good,” he said, a sudden dark hunger in his eyes. “I want you to be amazed. You deserve it. I hope you enjoy everything.”

“I’m sure I will,” she said, her heartbeat in her ears. He’s so handsome. “Help me figure out what to start with, will you?”

“Try the cheese. Then the oysters.”

She heaped her plate. His eyes were fixed on her face.

“You are gorgeous,” he said, making her blush. “You must get everything you want from men.”

Embarrassed, she laughed. “No.”

“You will from this one.”

No one had ever said anything like that to her. She could feel her face shining with the pleasure of it, but she didn’t know what to say.

“Oh, West,” she said. “You’re spoiling me.”

“It’s my duty,” he said, never taking his gold-ringed gaze off her.