Progressive fusion jazz plays in the background of the restaurant, which bustles with activity. It's sleek, modern, and my jaw nearly drops when I recognize some of the faces dining here tonight.

A New York state senator, Dave Matthews, Kurt Russell, and more beautiful, young, rich, European-looking couples than I can count.

I feel extremely self-conscious and out of place, wearing my tank top and short shorts here among all these sophisticated people dressed to the nines. But the hostess immediately recognizes Luke and gives us both a warm smile.

I guess having money and knowing the right people buys you all the social currency you need, and the utmost discretion… even if you look like total dog doo-doo.

To my great relief, they don't seat us in the main dining room where I'd stick out like a sore thumb.

"Mr. Steele," says the beautiful, skinny hostess, "Right this way to the rooftop penthouse dining room." We follow after her, and I feel jealous of the way her tiny, shapely butt moves underneath her pencil skirt. Luke is probably taking in an eyeful of her right now.

She takes us around the corner into a private elevator, and hits the "100" button. The elevator soars upward, and when it opens, I can't believe my eyes.

The rooftop is a huge circular room with continuous, panoramic 360-degree windows. I've never seen such a breathtaking view of the city before. Even being on the top of the Empire State Building doesn't compare to the private luxurious feeling of this.

In the middle of the room stands a single table covered in what looks like a silk tablecloth, with a bottle of wine sitting next to a vase. A single, ruby-red rose pokes out of it.

The scene literally takes my breath away.

"Luke, I… This isn't necessary," I manage to squeak out.

"Enough," he says, placing his hand on the small of my back and gently guiding me toward the table. "This is one of my usual weekday dining spots."

"Dorsia," I mumble, taking a seat at the table. "No one can get a reservation at Dorsia."

"So I'm a no one, then?" says Luke with a smirk. He shoots me a smile from across the table and goosebumps break out all over my thighs. His teeth are impossibly pearly white and straight, and his five-o'-clock shadow is coming in.

When I ran into him earlier today, he was completely clean shaven. Now, he looks rugged and tough. I can't help wondering what it would feel like for the stubble on those dark, sharp cheekbones to drag along my thigh.

I blush. "That's not what I meant at all."

"Relax," he says with a smile. "I know what you meant."

A sharp-dressed waiter wearing a tux appears and saves me from the moment of awkwardness. "Wine tonight, sir and miss?"

"Yes," says Luke. "This is your recommendation for tonight?" He gestures toward the bottle in the center of the table.

"Yes, sir. This is a 1939 floral Pinot Gris that pairs well with the special tonight, sea urchin and Chilean bass ceviche."

Luke nods. "Pour it."

"That will be twelve, sir."

My eyes widen when I realize the waiter doesn't mean $12 or even $1200. He means twelve-thousand dollars. He withdraws a corkscrew from an apron pocket, effortlessly pops the cork, and pours us each a glass.

"The special tonight, sir?"

Luke gazes into my eyes, his stare piercing into my soul. "You like fish?" he asks.

"Y-yes," I stammer. "Whatever you want."

He smiles. "Not whatever I want. Tonight is about you. You can have whatever you like tonight."

"Well, I do like fish."

"Excellent," he says, nodding at the waiter. "Tonight's special for both of us."

The waiter leaves us alone at the table.

I lean in and lower my voice to a whisper. "I can't believe I'm wearing this, at a restaurant like this."

Luke stitches his eyebrows together. "Explain."

"I mean, just look at me," I say, leaning back and gesturing toward my tank top. My bare, sweaty thighs feel sticky against the rich leather of the chair, and I feel like I'm contaminating it.

"You look incredible just the way you are."

"I would have changed into something better if I had the chance."

"If I wanted you to change, you would have changed. I wanted you to come exactly like that," says Luke, smiling at me.

My cheeks burn red. "And do you always get what you want?"

"Usually, yes." He speaks in such an even, controlled tone. It's almost maddening. "Especially in relation to women… coming." He smirks gently.

"I don't know what you mean." I swallow hard, and I feel a tingle between my legs. It's been so long since a man had this effect on me. My breath quickens.

"Really?" He leans forward, and places a hand on top of one of mine. It totally eclipses mine. His fingers are so thick and strong. I can't help wondering what they'd feel like against my thighs… and against my pussy.

"I didn't come… with you." I say, blushing. "I accompanied you."

He chuckles softly. "Call it what you like. This may be the first time you… accompany me… but it certainly won't be the last."

I draw in a sharp breath. Normally I'd be grossed out by a guy talking to me this way, but with Luke, it feels completely natural.

I grab my wine glass with a shaking hand and put it to my lips. Some part of me expects the wine to taste completely different—to taste hundreds of times more expensive than any other wine I've ever had—but the truth is, I can't tell the difference between this and the Trader Joe's boxed wine that Aya buys for our apartment.

I can't help wondering if it's because I'm uncultured, or if it's because there isn't actually a difference. I don't want to sound like an ungrateful jerk, though, so I don't say anything to Luke.

"So…" I say. "You know I have to ask. What do you actually do?"

He grins, and I feel his thumb stroke the top of my hand. It sends butterflies flipping all through my body.

"I'll give you three guesses," he says. "If you guess right, I'll show you my place after dinner. If you get it wrong… you show me yours."

My stomach flutters, partially with embarrassment at the thought of this rich, sophisticated man seeing my cheap, dingy apartment, and partially with anxiety over the implication of what he's saying.

Does he expect to wine and dine me, and then take me home and bang me? After all, I'm a virgin. And just because he's making me feel special and sexy, doesn't mean that I'm just going to give up my v-card in a single night.

I have morals, after all.

"Umm," I say, "You're a businessman."

He laughs out loud. "That doesn't count. Half the men in this city are businessmen. One wrong guess."

"Uh, okay." I gaze at his shirt, and I can tell his chest underneath is muscular and powerful. He's definitely a Type-A personality. "A Wall Street trader? Like in The Wolf of Wall Street?"

He cracks up laughing. "Wrong again."

"So before I use my third guess," I say, "I just want to ask a question. What do you think is going to happen if you come back to my place tonight?"

He shrugs and grins. "I don't know what you mean. I'm a perfect gentleman at all times."

I cock an eyebrow. "Why do I doubt that?"

That's when I feel his leg brush against mine under the table. I almost jerk backwards in surprise, like a silly inexperienced teenager, but thankfully I manage to hold it together.

I don't move my leg away, but I'm too nervous to return the gesture. I don't stop him, though. I can feel my panties getting wetter and wetter. What would it feel like if there were no clothes in between us, and our naked bodies were rubbing together like this?

"Take your third guess," he says.

"I honestly have no idea. An art collector."

"I hope you're ready for a visitor."

I frown. "I hope you're telling the truth about being a perfect gentleman."

He grins. "I'm the CEO of Diamond House Publishing."

I nearly spit out a mouthful of wine all over the white silk tablecloth. "You're not."

"Look around," he says, grinning. "Is it so unbelievable?"

"No," I say, nervously glancing around at the panorama of twinkling city lights outside. "It's just, I'm an author... with Diamond House Publishing."

His eyes narrow. "If you had a contract with Diamond House, I'd know your name. And I'd definitely have remembered your face."

"I literally just got the contract a week ago."

"Well," he says, sitting back in his chair and stroking his chin, "Isn't that something." I'm suddenly keenly aware that he's no longer touching me under the table. I was totally starting to get lost in his eyes, but he just brought me back to reality.

I straighten up in my chair as well. "Huh," I say, hoping that my voice doesn't betray my disappointment. "I guess that makes this whole thing very improper."

He nods slowly, and I carefully watch his face for any sign of a reaction. I half-expect him to stand up from his chair and end the date right here and now.

Then the corners of his mouth curl upward and he gives me a half-smirk. "Very. But it makes it a lot more exciting, too. Don't you think?"

My heart skips a beat. "Well," I say, "You are the CEO, after all."

He nods. "I am. At the same time… I still have to manage the optics of the situation. You understand what I mean, right?"

I nod back. The CEO can't be seen dating an author for his own company. That would be a conflict of interest.

"I feel like I can trust you not to go running around telling everyone about this little secret. Am I right to place that trust in you?" He gazes intensely into my eyes. Of course I'm honest. But I don't feel like I could get away with lying to him even if I tried.

"Of course," I say.

He relaxes and smiles. "Good." He extends his hand toward me again, and I lift mine up from my lap, and place it in his hand. We make eye contact again, and I feel excited.

I'm just not used to things turning out in my favor, at least not when guys are involved. Luke and I just had our first roadblock, and we already got past it.

For now, at least.

Before either one of us speaks again, the waiter comes back out with a huge platter of seafood. It smells like perfectly fresh fish, cocktail sauce, lime juice, cilantro, and a medley of other spices I can't even identify.

I suddenly realize I haven't eaten anything all day, and my mouth starts watering.

Luke smiles as he picks up a fork. "Are you underfed? Or malnourished? Because you're looking at this ceviche like a death row inmate looks at their last meal."

"That's a pleasant thought, I say, laughing.

"You're a pleasant thought."

Excitement thuds in my stomach, but I feel shy. Deep down, I still can't help wondering why this rich and handsome man is paying so much attention to little old me. I can't help wondering what his true motives are.

I wonder what he'd say if I told him right now that I'm a virgin. Of course, I'd never actually do that.

"I don't know what you mean," I say bashfully, blushing again. I pick up my fork and plunge it into a piece of ceviche on the platter. When it hits my tongue, my taste buds explode like a fireworks finale on the fourth of July.

"Oh, wow," I say, stabbing my fork into another piece. "This is divine."

I don't usually accept gifts or help from anyone—I like to make my own way and it's one of my best qualities—but I can't help enjoying this moment. Being the center of attention, eating the best food in one of the best restaurants in New York City, with a devastatingly handsome CEO.

Even if it's completely wrong.

* * *

The limo pulls up in front of the modest Queens brownstone where my basement apartment is located. It's already after ten-o'-clock and this residential neighborhood is quiet and empty already.

Thank goodness, because I might die of embarrassment if anyone saw me getting out of a limo in my own neighborhood. There'd be no end to the questions. I hope Aya is fast asleep right now.

Luke places a hand on my bare thigh, close to my knee, and I feel myself get wet again inside my panties.

This is so crazy. This sort of thing doesn't happen to virgins like me, and I'm half-terrified to go along with it any further, just because I know I'll end up completely disappointing this mature, experienced man once he finds out the truth about me.

"So," he says, brushing his fingertips lightly over my kneecap, "A deal's a deal."

I gulp. "First, you didn't let me change before dinner. Now, you want to see my place before I get a chance to clean it up. And," I add, "I don't even really know who you are."

"You know exactly who I am."

"I don't know you beyond you being my boss's boss's boss. Or whatever."

"We should get to know each other better. And don't worry about the situation." He looks deeply into my eyes. "If I say it's allowed, it's allowed."

I pull my knee away from his hand, and out of the corner of my eye, I think I see a momentary look of surprise flash over his face.

Good. I like that I can have that effect on the big, rich, handsome billionaire who gets everything he wants. I know he wants me, and I have power because I can deny him that. It makes me feel powerful.

"I'll honor our deal," I say, "but you have to come back another time. I have to prepare for visitors first. And that's final."

Luke chuckles. "Yes, ma'am." Then he adds, "You know… you could easily own this entire house. It would be pocket change to me."

"Ew," I say, frowning. "Wait. I thought you were trying to take me on a nice date. Are you trying to… buy me?"

He chuckles again and shakes his head no. "I actually wanted to see your reaction. And you know, Leah, very few women would react the way you just did."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, very few women would flatly reject an offer dangled in front of them like that."

"That doesn't bode well for my gender."

He sighs. "I'm not attacking women. I'm saying… Most people… men and women alike, only want to know me for my money."

"Well, you sure don't mind showing it off."

He shrugs. "I like good food and nice things. But that doesn't mean I want to be taken advantage of. I want genuine connections as much as anyone else."

"Well," I say, "I'm not looking to get anything out of you. A nice dinner, sure. But I make my own way through life. I always have, and I always will."

He smiles. "I like that about you, Leah. And I had a good time tonight. If you want to call it a night, very well. But I hope to see you again."

I glance at him, and for the first time, I wonder if there could be a different man underneath the surface. I assumed he was just a good-looking guy who buys women everywhere he goes. Maybe there is more to Luke Steele than I first thought.

"Well," I say, patting him on the hand jokingly, "Tonight you'll have to cuddle your piles of money, because I have to go to sleep. But I had a good time, too."

I open the limo door, get out, and bend down to get one last look at Luke Steele's gorgeous face.

"When will I see you again, Leah?" he says.

"We'll see," I say. "I… have to do some work on my book this weekend. And I'm visiting my dad in the hospital sometime next week."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Accident?"

"No," I say. "Cancer."

"I see. Send my best wishes."

"Thanks."

"Take my number," he says, pulling out a business card. "Get in touch when you're free."

"Okay. Good night." I push the limo door shut, and turn toward my front door.

That was the most interesting day I've had in a long time.

But I can't help wondering what Luke Steele is going to think when he finds out the truth about me… that I'm a virgin.