Free Unworthy Heart: The Donnellys, Book 1 by Dorothy F. Shaw

talk. It’s cute.”
    Maiya cringed and shoved another wave of embarrassment away. What kind of faces did she make?
    The waitress appeared in front of their table. Ryan ordered a bottle of Merlot. A few minutes later she returned with the bottle, opened it and poured a sample for Ryan to taste. He approved, and she poured them each a glass.
    Maiya stayed silent and watched the whole scene. It was obvious Ryan was no stranger to finer things. He may not have been to this specific restaurant before, but he’d been to plenty just like it. A feeling of being out of place, inadequate even, settled like a hard knot in her stomach. Looking down, she smoothed the napkin on her lap.
    “Have you decided on what you would like?” the waitress asked.
    “Yes.” Ryan glanced at the menu. “We’ll both have the New York strip, medium, mashed potatoes and asparagus, as well.” He looked at Maiya and she nodded.
    The waitress left with their menus tucked under her arm. Maiya tried to swallow the nerves rising up her throat. Her heel started its tap, tap, tapping again, and she pressed her free hand on her leg to stop its annoying twitch.
    “You okay, Maiya?”
    Gah! He asked her that a lot. What was her problem?She looked up at him and took a sip of her wine, trying to clear away the gum gluing her tongue to the roof of her mouth. “Mmhmm” was all she managed to get out.
    He reached across the table for her hand and she placed the one from her lap in his. He squeezed her fingers. “Your hands are shaking.”
    Maiya cleared her throat. “I’m fine, honest.” She looked around. “I’m going to find the ladies room.”
    “All right.”
    She walked away in search of the bathroom. In this case, a safe place to call last call on the little insecurity party she was having.

Chapter Ten
    Ryan sipped his wine while he waited for Maiya to return. She’d looked like she might be sick before she excused herself from the table. Her face had even gone pale, and the mask he’d gotten used to seeing looked more like a frightened child than the confident woman she’d shown him before.
    Was he ever going to get it right with her? Christ, he hoped so. She was still in her work clothes, and he was too, yet she looked perfect to him. Her dark-gray, fitted skirt flared around her knees and her red blouse molded to her body in perfection. Ryan was damn sure the woman could make burlap look good.
    He kept his eyes trained on the doorway, awaiting her appearance.
    Then, she was there.
    As she strutted toward him in her tall black pumps, his stomach launched into a series of somersaults and he had to swallow a couple of times. Everything slowed to a crawl around them, and all the background noise from the other customers, the staff and the piano playing, blended into a hum of white noise.
    All he wanted to see, and hear, was her.
    “Now it’s my turn to ask.” She took her seat. “Are you okay? You’re looking at me like I’m a present and you’re trying to figure out the best way to unwrap me.”
    Ryan threw his head back and guffawed. Her comment was perfect, and enough to break the tension, and lead the way to idle conversation. She mentioned how nice the restaurant was, how good the wine tasted. He watched her mouth as she spoke, studied the shapes her lips made forming each syllable. He wanted to kiss her again.
    Their meal appeared. The waitress poured each of them more wine before excusing herself.
    “This looks delicious.” She cut into her steak, tasted a piece and closed her eyes.
    Again, he watched her, mesmerized. “Is it good?” He raised his glass to his lips.
    Still chewing, she opened her eyes slowly. “Mmhmm.”
    The look in her eyes shot a hammer of lust straight between his legs. His prick swelled in his pants. Clenching his teeth, Ryan swallowed and stared at his dinner.
    “Aren’t you going to eat?”
    His head snapped up to meet her gaze. “Yes. I—” He swallowed. “I just…I was waiting.”
    “For