Free Dream Lover by Nicola Peterson Page B

finger of concern stabbed at her, they were working well together and she prayed he would not do anything to spoil things.
    The waterside restaurant was beautifully furnished, the lighting soft and romantic, the views stunning. It was as they entered that Quinn realised Maxwell had obviously booked a table and that he had been there before because the moment they entered the Maitre de was beside them escorting them to their table.
    Quinn could understand a little French providing it was spoken slowly but the two men spoken so quickly she could hardly catch a word of their conversation, but did get the impression that she was mentioned.
    ‘Have you ever tried frog’s legs?’ Maxwell asked while studying the menu.
    ‘No,’ Quinn replied and gave a delicate little shudder, ‘I’d be sick at just the thought.’
    ‘Okay,’ he turned his attention away from her again and back to the menu. ‘Do you trust me to order for you?’ he asked peering at her over the top of his menu while pulling hers from her fingers.
    She pressed her lips together for a moment and gave his question some thought, ‘Yes, just nothing horrid,’
    ‘Promise,’ he replied his eyes resting on her lips for a moment.
    When the waiter came to take their order Max spoke in quick fire French, not giving her a chance to work out just what he had ordered. Once the food arrived he insisted in feeding her the first mouthful of each of the five courses.
    Each time he would tell her, ‘Close your eyes and open your mouth,’ while he slipped the morsel of food between her lips, ‘now open your eyes and chew,’ he instructed her. He watched her intently as she tasted the food, his eyes moving between her eyes and mouth.
    Obediently she did as he bid and found herself looking into his smiling, seductive blue eyes. Quinn’s heart did a strange flutter, she blinked when she realised he was speaking to her.
    ‘Chew,’ he repeated, ‘nice?’
    ‘Very,’ she murmured still looking into his eyes, while thinking whatever food he had put in her mouth was disgusting, she swallowed quickly and reached for her wineglass.
    ‘Quinn are you alright?’ he asked when she gulped down her wine.
    ‘Yes, sorry I didn’t like that,’ she took another sip of wine in an effort to rid her mouth of the taste.
    ‘You said you did,’ he told her looking to her soft golden eyes.
    ‘Did I?’ she shook her head when he smiled. ‘I... I changed my mind,’ she told him while taking another sip of her wine. What was nice, no a whole lot more than nice, was looking in to his eyes and listening to his deep voice. Immediately a tiny voice popped in to her head warning her not to go down that road, he’s the boss and never forget it she warned herself.
    The next time he placed the food in her mouth she made sure she knew what she was saying, so when he asked if she liked it she could tell him truthfully, ‘Yes, what was it?’ When she saw the twinkle in his eyes she knew it was the frogs’ legs, besides the snails the meal was a success.
    In fact the whole evening was a success, Quinn realised her boss was nothing at all like the man she worked for of a daytime. He laughed easily, told her silly jokes making her laugh; when they stood up to leave the restaurant he slipped his arm around her shoulders as though it was the most natural thing to do and Quinn accepted leaning slightly into him.
    As they strolled back toward their hotel he stopped under the shelter of a bridge that crossed the river, and looked down into her eyes, he rested his hand against her shoulder pulling her closer, while he ran other hand through her hair then cupping her face he tilted her chin to him and lowered his head.
    For a long moment Quinn stayed still, mesmerised by the way his eyes darkened and the way his tongue moved from behind his perfectly white teeth across his lips.
    ‘What are you doing?’ she asked him, stupidly.
    Maxwell looked down into her eyes, ‘Kissing you.’
    Then before