The food was amazing. The flank steak was as tender as butter, bursting with the tastes of pepper, garlic, lime, and rich, meaty flavor. She’d never had a dinner this exquisite.

And she’d never had any dinner—ever—with a man this good-looking or this sophisticated. Honestly, she was a little paranoid that her table manners weren’t up to snuff.

“I’ve never been in a situation like this,” she admitted, very conscious of the crystal chandelier overhead. “Can I admit it’s a little bit . . . wild?” She had to keep reminding herself not to use her wine glass as a prop to mask her nervousness. If she did, she could end up drinking a little too much. The luxury Burgundy he was serving was strong.

“Wild?” he repeated, looking wryly amused. His uncanny eyes glittered. “Interesting choice of words.”

“Uh . . . so, what exactly does a finance manager do?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

He seemed remarkably at ease with having a strange woman in his home and at his table. She didn’t detect any of the nervousness from him that she was feeling. It was like he was too confident for that, too assured. Too alpha. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. A finance manager oversees the finances and accounts of a company. A lot of analysis is involved. A lot of coordinating accounting teams.”

“I’m afraid I don’t really understand corporate finance. Can you be a little more specific for an ignorant layperson like myself? What do you do in a day?”

He smiled. It was a killer smile, calm, even, almost cold—except it wasn’t. “Invest funds. Hedge. Forecast cash flow. Oversee credit extensions.”

She had to laugh. “It’s neat that you can speak Sanskrit.”

He laughed, too, a rough, low laugh. It was a masculine sound that went right to her core. “What I do is a little bit less beautiful than Sanskrit.”

“What attracted you to finance, then?” she asked, genuinely curious. “Love of numbers? The potential to make infinite amounts of money?” Oh, shit. Maybe I’ve had too much of that Burgundy already.

His smile widened slightly, understandingly. “More or less that. Stability.”

“I can appreciate that.” She took a sip of wine. “Where do you . . . finance manage?”

He chuckled. “Blackbank Investments.”

Hooooly crap. That explains his high-rolling lifestyle. “Wow.”

“It has its moments.”

She gazed at him consideringly. “I don’t really know anything about you, West. That’s thrilling, if I can admit that, but . . . it’s scary, too. I don’t know where you’re from, or what interests you, or who you’ve been with, or what you really want, or–or anything.”

“It is thrilling, isn’t it?” he agreed, and he took a slow drink of wine, watching her. The look in his eyes sent a chill of longing down her spine. “Let’s start small. I’m from rural Washington. Clallam Bay.”

“I’ve never been to Washington,” she said with a hint of wistfulness. “I’ve seen photos, though. It looks beautiful.”

“It is beautiful. And quiet. Nothing like New York.”

“Do you miss it?”

“No. I made the right choice, coming here. I didn’t fit in at home.”

Her brow furrowed. She couldn’t imagine a self-possessed, handsome man like this having difficulties anywhere. Maybe his family had been really strange?

He caught her skeptical look. “I’m serious. I didn’t fit in there . . . but it’s a long story. What about you, Winnie?” Hearing her name in his mouth, spoken in his deep voice, gave her a little shiver. She suspected she might never tire of hearing him say it. “Where are you from?”

“Wolfpine, Tennessee.” She closed her fingers on the stem of her wine glass. They were sweaty. “It’s close-knit. Small. I live with my family.”

“Who is your family?” he asked with a surprising amount of interest.

“My niece and sister. My grandmother.” Winnie couldn’t help smiling. “They’re dear to me.”

“Family is important,” he said, and it sounded like more than a platitude.

Winnie brushed some of her twisted gold hair behind her ear. She saw his eyes follow her hand. I can’t believe this. Is he actually attracted to a girl like me? Like, actually? He couldn’t be. This dude could be banging Miranda Kerr if he wanted!

“Have you been to New York before?” he asked, pouring her more wine. Even small talk felt electric with a man this beautiful.

“No. I’ve always wanted to come, though.” She gazed out one of the small room’s windows, which was framed in long, lush olive drapes. “Doesn’t everyone, even if it’s only for a visit?”

“Maybe so.” He folded his hands, watching her. “I’ll have to show you around.”

“Would you? Do you have time for that?” she asked, knowing her eyes were shining.

“I have time for you,” he said, a little thickly. Her skin prickled. “We’ll go out tomorrow. Just say where.”

She bit her bottom lip. “The department stores? Macy’s, maybe? The museums? Rockefeller Center? Times square? One of the zoos?”

“We can do all of that, although not in one day,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. He smiled, very slightly. “Let me arrange things.”

“I mean, you don’t have to take me around. A man like you has to be busy—”

“Like I said,” he repeated calmly, “I have time for you. You made time for me, time to come here, and I can do the same.”

She realized she was flushing. Glancing down at her mostly-empty plate, she tried to collect her thoughts. Was she asking for too much? Had she eaten too much? Was he judging her?

Breathe.

“Thank you, West,” she said slowly, forcing restraint. “I’m excited to be here.”

“Good. I’m glad you’ve come,” he said, and his voice was low. “Winnie.”

She looked up again, tucking more hair behind her ear. He held up his glass purposefully, as though he’d just made an important decision.

“To another two weeks’ worth of dinners. I hope we enjoy each other,” he said, and the way he said it made her pulse race.

She toasted him, smiling slightly. “To enjoying each other.”