Free Flame Unleashed (Hell to Pay) by Jillian David Page B

Jerahmeel, a fine meal seems like a great idea.”
    “Yes, but for how long will he stay away?” Sadness turned down the corners of her lush mouth.
    “I don’t know, but that’s why we should enjoy tonight.”
    She countered, “You and I don’t need food.”
    “Need and want are two different things. I
want
to have a meal with a fascinating woman. I
need
her to join me, or I shall perish.”
    She was a little prickly tonight, this beautiful, defiant woman. Perfect. A test of wills. Something he hadn’t experienced in hundreds of years. He’d been with feisty women but none who could truly match him. He did love a challenge, especially if it concluded with her in his bed.
    When she peered down the street, her sculpted face half hidden in shadow, the play of emotions over her features entranced him. She pinned him with those gold-flecked eyes.
    Not only could she be the difference in success and failure in his scheme, but what a bonus if he could get those long, soft legs thrown over his shoulders as they made inexhaustible love. Odie simply needed to work a different angle until he had everything he wanted.
    He waited for her answer.
    “All right.”

Chapter 7
    Odie held the heavy door of Chez Herbert and motioned for Ruth to precede him. When he brushed his fingers over the small of her back, a frisson of electricity pulsed through the material and zipped up her spine. As they entered the opulent restaurant, she glanced at the tables set with crystal stemware and gold-rimmed dishes. The wood paneling gleamed, and pressed linen covered the tables. The scents of furniture oil, savory steak, and melted candle wax blended in a rich aroma. Although the establishment was small, its tables didn’t crowd the customers. Comfortable and luxurious at the same time. And expensive.
    Heat crawled over her cheeks as she smoothed her knit top and pants. She glanced at Odie in his jeans and denim shirt from earlier today. They were both underdressed.
    “We can’t eat here.” She motioned toward the lingering customers, clad in elegant evening gowns and three-piece suits. “Besides, it’s too late. The restaurant’s closing down for the night.”
    “Don’t worry. Besides, my clothing is more casual than yours.”
    He ran a hand through his tousled hair. Although his chest filled out the untucked shirt and rock-hard cords rippled beneath his jeans, she agreed with his assessment of their attire.
    Ingrained decorum urged her to withdraw. Damn those old-fashioned manners, a holdover from the old Ruth. She needed to let go of that passive woman who cared about everyone’s opinion and embrace the woman she wanted to be—the woman who might take a chance on a rogue like Odie.
    “Let’s leave. Please.” She tugged at his muscled arm. He didn’t budge.
    “Nonsense.” He waved at a middle-aged man who approached. “Ah, here’s the maitre d’.”
    The tuxedoed restaurant host dipped his head and smiled. Ruth cringed in embarrassment.
    Odie smiled. “Philippe, any chance you can fit in a late-night customer?”
    “Of course, Mr. Pierre-Noir, we always have a table for you. And for your lovely companion.”
    Funny, but the host’s eyes twinkled as he glanced at the two of them. Almost as if he truly didn’t mind them arriving at his restaurant close to midnight.
    “We don’t want to be any trouble,” she said.
    “No trouble at all,
mademoiselle
, it would be my pleasure. Right this way, if you please.”
    The old Ruth took a backseat as the muscles holding her spine rigid finally relaxed. Damned if Odie didn’t shrug those broad shoulders and wink at her. And damned if she didn't giggle like a schoolgirl. At a corner table, Odie held out a chair and scooted her forward, brushing her arms in the process, which released a tendril of happiness that flowed through her body. She hadn’t enjoyed a gentleman’s solicitous attention since those elegant dinner parties in Maryland 150 years ago. Barnaby didn’t count; he