The wine loosens my tongue, and by the time the food arrives, I’m babbling away like a brook. “I’m fascinated by the way the human mind works…” My voice trailing away as my eyes drink in the sight of lobster and drawn butter, asparagus with béarnaise, and potatoes au gratin. It’s almost too beautiful to eat. My mouth waters, and I remember that I haven’t eaten since the protein bar I scarfed down before Tom picked me up this morning. No wonder the wine and Brock’s charisma seem to have gone straight to my head.

“I’m deeply interested in that myself,” he agrees, as a steak is placed in front of him.

The smells from his plate are killing me. Now I wonder if I should’ve ordered that. Then again, he did say I could change my mind… Gosh, now I know I’m buzzed. “Oh, you are?” I pick up the knife and fork and wonder what the heck I’m supposed to do with the red crustacean in front of me.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs. “I asked the waiter to have it cracked and cleaned for you. You only have to pull out the meat.”

“Thank you.” I take some of the claw meat and dip it delicately into the melted butter, but embarrass myself when my eyes roll back in my head. “Oh, my God.”

He smiles. “It’s very delicious, isn’t it?” He sounds amused. Not like he’s making fun of me or anything. More like he’s glad to indulge a child who has been thrust into his care for a few hours.

I don’t know if I like being viewed like a child, not really, but I do like being indulged. I dab at the corner of my mouth with my napkin to wipe away any butter. “They must do something very special to it. I’ve tasted lobster before, but this is something else,”

“Yes, you did look like you were having an orgasm over it.”

“Brock!” My cheeks must be glowing as red as the poor thing’s shell.

He gazes at me as he chews slowly. Even the way he chews is suggestive. “No judgment. I wish a plate of lobster could get me off that way.”

I clear my throat and poke my lobster. “So what do you do?”

“What I do? I manufacture parts.”

“Parts?” My nose crinkles.

“Mm-hmm.”

“What kind of parts?”

“Parts for medical equipment, military equipment. Nothing very sexy.”

“But I bet it’s important work. You can’t have medical equipment without the parts.”

“True.”

“But how does someone your age get to be so rich? I hope that’s not a rude question, but you do seem sort of young.”

He chuckles, but there’s no humor there. “You’re not the only one who feels that way.”

I swallow the buttery asparagus in my mouth. “I didn’t mean to bring up a touchy subject.”

“It’s all right. My grandfather owned the company, but he and my father had no relationship. I mean none whatsoever. I never even met the old man except for once when I was very young and my mother took me to see him without my father knowing. He would’ve had a fit if he’d found out. My grandfather was a very proud, cold man who made my mother wait outside his study while I went in and sat opposite him. I was his only grandchild. He had shrewd gray eyes and studied me closely.” He frowns slightly at the memory. “I got the impression he was disappointed with what he saw, but when he died a few years ago he left me all his shares in the company, and instructions that I take his place as the CEO. If the Board didn’t accept me, I had the legal right to disband the entire company as he was the majority shareholder. I was so young and the company was starting to fail, so my parents and his lawyers advised me to sell, to take the money and run. There would be enough to never have to work again.”

I’m so totally enthralled with his story I stop eating, to listen.

He shrugs. “But I didn’t want to do that. I suppose others in my place would have. But I wanted to make a success of things. I guess, I never forgot the disappointment in his face that one time we met. I wanted to show him…”

“That was very brave of you.”

He smiles. “I don’t like anybody to tell me I can’t do something. It just makes me more determined than ever to do it and do it better than anybody else. I’ve managed to do well with the company. Taken it to new heights that no one thought it was capable of.”

“I admire you,” I blurt out. To the point where I haven’t taken a bit of food since he started talking about how he got rich. Everything I’ve assumed about him seems to be adding up. He has a lot of class and a lot of character. He could’ve loafed around for the rest of his life, but he chose to work instead. I wish I didn’t like him so darn much. Though, liking him will make it easier to pretend to be his fiancée.

“Thank you.” He smiles before motioning to my plate. “Go on. Before it gets cold.”

“Yes, sir,” I mutter with a smirk.

“That sort of talk is unnecessary outside the bedroom.”

I feel my cheeks go red again.

“Sorry. I can’t help myself. You bring it out in me,” he apologizes, not looking sorry at all as he cuts a piece of steak and puts it between those sinfully sexy lips.

“Yes, I’m sure you’re just an innocent schoolboy, otherwise,” I retort.

“As pure as the driven snow.” Then he grins. “Mmm. I’m nearly as enamored with this as you are with your dinner.”

“Aged beef. I’ve never heard of such a thing,” I admit.

He points to the slab of beef with his eyebrows raised.

“All right,” I say, thinking that he will cut off a piece and place it on my bread plate.

What he does is cut off a piece and brings the glistening morsel to my mouth. “You won’t believe your taste buds,” he murmurs, his eyes fixed on my mouth.

Is it hot in here? I have no choice but to open my mouth. The meat slides in. Somehow, the action is so sexual and full of lust, I have to close to my eyes to block out the sight of his blue, blue eyes and the strange expression in them so that I can concentrate on tasting the meat.

It’s like butter, practically melting on my tongue. It has a flavor I didn’t know existed in anything, especially not steak. After I get control of myself, yes, I managed not to groan like I did over the lobster, I open my eyes and shake my head. “Until a few years ago, I was convinced that I hated steak.”

“Why is that?” he asks, a half-smile on his face.

“Because my foster mother’s idea of cooking steak was slapping it down on the pan and going into the other room to check the weather forecast. She didn’t pay any attention to it. It wasn’t ready to eat until you could bounce it off the floor.” Even now the memory of meat burning makes me shudder. “I can still remember sitting there, chewing and chewing and trying to get it down my throat because of the finish everything on your plate rule we had in the house. Ugh, it was nasty. Like eating leather. Needless to say, I couldn’t understand why anyone would ever order beef at a restaurant.”

“Reminds me of my mother’s cooking.” He chuckles. “She tried. She really did, but instead of making something simple, like spaghetti and meatballs, which, incidentally, is my favorite meal, she was always trying to make these extravagant dishes that would fail magnificently. But of course, we all had sit at the table and pretend it was good.”

I smile at the thought of him as a small boy. “You can afford to eat like this, but your favorite dish is spaghetti and meatballs?”

“Oh, hell, yeah. And a good peanut butter and jelly sandwich is my weakness.” He winks. “Another something you should know.”

Those days when we had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner every damn day flash into my head, but I smile pleasantly. “You’re a man of mystery, Brock.”

“You have no idea.” His eyes are inscrutable over the rim of his wine glass.

It’s the nicest dinner I’ve ever had in my entire life, but the funny thing is, it would’ve been even if we’d eaten drive-thru burgers. It was special because of him.