Priceless Ch. 03

She whistled silently, enraptured by the necklace and earrings. I took the necklace out of its custom case and gently turned Kate toward the mirror. Her eyes were riveted to the sparkling sapphire as I put my arms around her and then fastened the lobster clasp at the nape of her neck.

She admired her reflection for a moment, then absentmindedly raised her hand to stroke the pendant, making sure it was real. Her gaze met mine in the mirror, and I was surprised to see tears welling up in her eyes. She turned and hugged me tight, throwing her arms around my neck and squeezing as she planted kisses along my neck and jaw.

"It's beautiful," she said, her voice a hoarse whisper.

"You're beautiful."

She pulled back and smiled bashfully. I gazed at her for a moment; I couldn't remember a time I'd seen her look so self-conscious. The moment passed and her eyes brightened, still glistening with unshed tears, as she reached for the earrings. Once she was properly bejeweled, she preened in the mirror for a moment, too stunned to speak.

I looked at her fondly and smiled to myself as she simply stared at her reflection, lost in thought. She smiled sadly and her eyes once again threatened to overflow. With a tiny shake of her head, she seemed to come back to herself, then turned to look at me. I smiled gently, and she leaned against me to rest her cheek on my shoulder.

I couldn't tell what she was thinking, but I put my arm around her and held her protectively. We stood like that for a couple of minutes, neither of us speaking. Finally, she sniffled slightly and lifted her head from my shoulder. I wanted to know what she had been thinking, but her body language told me that she desperately didn't want me to ask.

Instead, I discreetly looked at my watch. "Are you ready to go?" I asked.

She nodded gratefully, and stepped into her shoes as I put on my suit coat. I helped her with her gauzy grey wrap, and then we took one last look at ourselves in the bathroom mirror. With her heels on, she was only a few inches shorter than me, and we looked good together. Kate must have been thinking the same thing, for when I looked at her reflection, she smiled and actually blushed.

Satisfied that we looked presentable, we headed downstairs.

-----

Once at the restaurant, I pulled up to the valet stand and put the Rover in Park. A uniformed valet opened Kate's door while another was still walking toward mine. I opened it myself, stepped out of the car, and accepted the valet ticket from the young man. I walked around the front of the car and held my arm out for Kate. When she took it, I ushered her into the restaurant and we gave our coats to the woman in the cloak room.

"Bon soir, Madame et Monsieur," the maître d' said as we approached. "Welcome to Marie-Claire's." His voice was a rich baritone, and his French accent was either genuine or very well rehearsed.

"We have a reservation for eight," I said. "The name is Mackenzie."

He didn't even consult his reservations book before his face brightened. "Mais oui, Monsieur Mackenzie. A table for two in the Library. If you would be so kind as to follow me."

I decided his accent was genuine, and moved aside so Kate could precede me. The room he led us to was one I was familiar with, if only in passing. It had an Old World feel to it, and was decorated with dark, rich mahogany bookshelves—hence the fact that it was called The Library.

An intimate table had been set up, complete with a fresh rose for a centerpiece. The maître d' held Kate's chair for her while I seated myself, to her left. Behind him, a waiter unobtrusively stepped into the room. Without seeming to notice the new arrival, the maître d' looked at us obsequiously.

"Madame Darcy wishes me to welcome you on her behalf. Laurent," he said, indicating he had noticed the waiter's entrance, "will attend to your every need this evening. If there is any way I may be of service, please do not hesitate to call on me."

"Thank you very much," I said. "Please give my compliments to Marie-Claire"

"Ah, certainly, sir. Bon appétit."

As soon as the maître d' left, Laurent unfolded Kate's napkin, draped it across her lap, and handed her a menu. He did the same with me and then handed me another with the night's prix fixe selection.

"I will give you a moment to peruse the menu," Laurent said. "May I bring you an aperitif or something from the bar?"

I looked at Kate and she gave me a minute headshake. "No, thank you," I said. "But please ask your sommelier to see us."

"Certainly, sir."

With a nod, he was gone, pulling the doors closed behind him.

"This is one of my favorite restaurants," Kate said. "Thank you for bringing me here."

It didn't surprise me that she'd been here before. While the restaurant was exclusive, it wasn't difficult—with the right planning and lead time—to get reservations. And it was expensive, but Kate could have easily afforded it. Or, I thought to myself, the men she had dated could have as well, most likely.

I put that thought out of my mind as the doors opened and a young woman entered, carrying a basket of bread and a pitcher of water. She set the bread on the table and quickly filled our water goblets. Kate smiled at me after the young woman left, and then went back to reading her menu.

The waiter returned with the sommelier, and they looked at me expectantly.

"Would you like a few more minutes?" the waiter asked respectfully.

"No," Kate and I said simultaneously. We grinned at each other and I deferred to her.

"I'd like the lamb cutlets with the mustard tarragon sauce," she said.

"An excellent selection, Madame," the waiter replied.

Kate ordered a Caesar salad as well, and then smiled at me.

"I'll have the veal tenderloin medallions with the duck confit," I said as the waiter turned to regard me calmly. "With a Caesar salad. And I think we'll have an appetizer. Is there anything that suits your fancy, Kate?"

The look she gave me clearly said "you." I blushed and she turned to regard the menu with a satisfied grin.

"How about the foie gras with mushrooms and boursin cheese in Muscat game sauce?" she asked.

"Sounds perfect," I said, and handed my menu to the waiter.

He took Kate's as well, and I looked at the sommelier expectantly. After listening to what we'd ordered, he recommended three different red wines, all of them French, which would complement our food. I know a little about wine, but I'm certainly no oenophile. I confidently chose the second of his recommendations and he smiled approvingly.

"I didn't know you knew wines," Kate said as soon as the two men had departed.

I grinned sheepishly. "I don't. But a lot of what I do, in business, is making decisions. When an expert gives me options, I can pick one of them and sound confident. If I need clarification, I'll ask and then make a decision. In this case," I said, gesturing to the departed sommelier, "it didn't really matter which of the three I picked. I can't imagine that a restaurant like this wouldn't have one of the best sommeliers in town, so I simply picked a wine whose name I liked."

She looked at me, shook her head in wonder, then burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" I asked, trying not to sound wounded.

"I was just thinking how different our lives are."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "Most of my decisions are life or death."

"They can't all be life or death," I said.

"No, they're not. But enough of them are that I'd better know what I'm talking about when I make a decision."

"I understand. My job isn't quite like that, of course, but people still depend on me and the decisions I make. Half of being a good leader is inspiring confidence."

She nodded quickly.

"We lead people, Kate. You in the operating room, me in a conference room. The applications may be different, but the attitudes certainly aren't."

"I guess I'd never looked at it that way," she said.

"Our jobs may be different, but in many ways, I imagine they're very much alike. I need to be good at what I do as much as you do. So, believe it or not, I study this stuff."

She looked at me inquisitively.

I nodded. "Leadership, management, negotiation, etc. I may be a computer whiz, but I learned that I'm also good at leading people."

"Oh," she said, toying with her earring. "I can think of a few other things you're good at."

I blushed and was about to reply when the sommelier returned with our bottle of wine. Kate grinned unrepentantly and then composed herself. The sommelier showed me the wine and I nodded. He then efficiently opened the bottle and handed me the cork; I quickly checked to make sure it was moist and free of cracks. (I may not be an oenophile, but I do know a little about wines.)

When I nodded, the sommelier poured a small amount of wine into my glass. It was light red, and smelled slightly fruity. I swirled it around my glass, nosed it, and then tasted a sip. It was very good. At my smile and nod, he poured a glass for Kate and then filled mine. I thanked him and he placed the bottle on the table and took his leave.

Kate tasted her wine and nodded appreciatively. I watched as she did so, once again admiring by her beauty. The diamond and sapphire necklace drew my eyes to her long neck and the earrings complemented her aristocratic facial features. She felt my eyes upon her and turned to regard me coolly.

"What were you thinking, just now?" she asked.

"How beautiful you are," I answered honestly.

She smiled and lowered her eyes. I reached out, took her hand in my own, and rubbed it with my thumb.

"I've had fun today," I said.

"Me too," she said softly.

"You're fun to hang out with."

She arched an eyebrow at me. "And fun to spend money on?"

I nodded. "But I'm serious, I've had fun today."

"I'll bet you have," she said with a laugh.

"Not just the sex," I protested. "Although that was… really enjoyable."

She grinned coquettishly.

"I dunno. I guess… well… everything just… worked. You know?"

She looked down and nodded slightly. "So," she said, changing the subject abruptly. "'Madame Darcy wishes him to welcome you on her behalf.' What was that about?"

"I know the owner, Marie-Claire Darcy."

"Oh you do, do you?"

I nodded. "I met her several years ago, when I dated her younger sister. We've been friends ever since."

"You and the sister, or you and Marie-Claire?" Kate asked archly, but with a teasing tone.

I smiled genially. "Both, actually. Although Arianne, her sister, is happily married and has two young children."

"Ah, I see. So Marie-Claire still has a thing for you?"

I snorted in laugher and Kate blinked. "I doubt it," I said, still chuckling. "If Marie-Claire had a thing for me, I'd be very surprised. Trust me. Besides," I said, leaning close to Kate, "if Marie-Claire had a thing for me, I think her girlfriend might try to shoot me."

Kate looked at me for a moment, trying to ascertain if I were being serious or not. When she saw that I was, she burst out laughing herself.

"Touché," she said.

I smiled indulgently and lifted my glass. Kate lifted hers as well.

"To a good day?" I asked.

"To a good night," she said playfully.

I nodded and we clinked our glasses together, each of us taking a sip and looking at the other over the rim of the glass.

-----

Our appetizer arrived and we began to eat, chatting about the décor of the room, the quality of the food, and other lighthearted topics. Next came the salads, and when they were cleared away, we ordered another bottle of wine. Soon after it was delivered and opened, Marie-Claire herself delivered our entrées.

"Ethan!" she exclaimed, kissing me on each cheek as I stood. "So good to see you again."

Despite her name, Marie-Claire had a decidedly southern accent. She had worked at some of the finest French restaurants in both the U.S. and France, but she cultivated her southern charm. She liked to see people's reactions when they learned that beneath her Southern Belle exterior lurked a Cordon Bleu–trained chef.

"Marie-Claire Darcy, I'd like you to meet Dr. Kate Kirilov," I said, gesturing toward Kate.

Kate dabbed the corners of her mouth with the linen napkin and then stood to greet Marie-Claire.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Kirilov," Marie-Claire said.

"Please, call me Kate." Kate looked at me, curiosity plain upon her face. "Finally meet me?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," Marie-Claire said with a smile. "I'm certain I've seen you in the restaurant before. I apologize if I'm mistaken."

I chuckled and both women looked at me. "No," I said to Marie-Claire. "You're not mistaken. This is one of Kate's favorite restaurants. Besides," I said to Kate in a confidential tone, "Marie-Claire has an eye for beautiful women."

"Ethan," Marie-Claire said, playfully slapping my arm. "You're tellin' tales out of school."

I grinned and Marie-Claire turned serious. "I'm sorry I can't spend more time with you," she said, "but the mayor has a dinner party in the Yellow Room. I promised him I'd make a special dessert for them. You just know how he can get sometimes," she said with a wink and grin. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Kate. And don't be such a stranger, Ethan."

With that, she was back out the door, already intent upon the mayor and his party.

Kate and I seated ourselves and she looked at me critically. "You know the mayor?"

"No," I said quickly, laying the napkin across my lap once again. "But Marie-Claire knows just about everyone who's anyone in this town."

Kate looked at me with a hint of amusement. "So I see," she said wryly.

She affected innocence when I looked up, and I couldn't help but grin at her. She studiously ignored me, and began cutting her lamb.

Dinner was magnificent. My veal practically melted in my mouth, and the sommelier's wine recommendation was a perfect fruity complement. Kate's mustard tarragon sauce added a delicious note to the lamb, and she savored more than a few bites of my veal.

We finished the better part of half of our second bottle of wine and most of our dinners. I simply couldn't stop myself, and I knew I'd regret eating more than I should have. At Kate's guilty look, I realized that she was probably thinking the same thing. Fortunately, French cuisine is not noted for tremendous portions.

The waiter checked on us periodically, and when he realized that our eating had slowed to a halt, he cleared our plates. Despite the fact that Kate and I were both pleasantly full, when he produced the dessert menu, our eyes lit up. We finally decided on Bananas Foster, with two spoons.

After several minutes, the door opened, and instead of Laurent, Marie-Claire herself rolled a cart into the room. She grinned at us and proceeded to construct our dessert, lighting the pan with a flourish. With French cuisine, presentation is half the enjoyment, and Marie-Claire was a consummate performer. After she finished sprinkling the dish with powdered sugar, she added a sprig of mint and winked at us.

"Y'all come back now, y'hear," she said, in her best southern drawl.

Kate and I both chuckled and gave her a muted round of applause. She bowed, and with another wink, backed out of the room with the cart. The waiter closed the doors behind her. Kate shook her head in wonder.

"She's something, isn't she?" I said casually.

Kate nodded as she savored a bite of our dessert. "With that combination of southern charm and exquisite cooking," she said appreciatively, "it's no wonder she knows half the who's who list in the state."

-----

"Do you have cognac at home," Kate asked me suddenly, shortly after our dessert had been cleared away.

I nodded. "And Scotch, and… most anything else you could want. Why?"

She looked at me with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"Ah," I said. "Would you like to enjoy it the regular way, with a glass?" I thought back to our first dinner together, at the Jazz Club. She had let me drink the cognac, and then kissed me immediately afterward, tasting the heady liquor on my lips and tongue. "Or would you like to enjoy it the 'Kate way?'"

"Neither," she said mysteriously.

"Oh?"

"It's a surprise," she said, her voice dripping with good-natured irony.

"What kind of surprise?" I asked, setting her up for the obvious answer.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise.," she said with a grin, playfully throwing my earlier words back in my face.

We tarried a bit longer, enjoying the relative quiet of our private room and sipping on the last of our glasses of wine. By unspoken agreement, we'd left about half the bottle untouched, neither of us wanting to get more than a gentle buzz.

Kate slid her chair around so her thigh pressed against mine, and I put my arm around her. She ran her left hand up the inside of my right thigh and tickled my crotch. I arched an eyebrow at her, but she merely grinned at me. She continued to lightly stroke my flaccid member, and soon had my penis filling with blood. I shifted in my seat and she gripped my growing cock, giving me a gentle squeeze.

"Are you ready to go?" she whispered in my ear.

I nodded without hesitation.

"Good. Because I'm ready to enjoy my cognac."

While we waited for Laurent to reappear, Kate teased me mercilessly, stroking my erection and whispering in my ear about what she was going to do to me on the ride back to my house.

The wait for Laurent seemed an eternity, but was probably closer to five minutes. By then, Kate had used a combination of her hand and her sultry voice to work me into a state where I was just about ready to throw her on the table and fuck her senseless, consequences be damned.

Fortunately for her, the waiter reappeared and I asked for our check. He retrieved it from his apron pocket and without even waiting for him to leave, I handed him my credit card. Kate stroked my hard-on unabated, and pressed her lips against my earlobe as soon as he closed the doors behind him.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you when we get to your place?" Kate asked.

I swallowed hard and shook my head.

"It's a surprise," she said, exacting a measure of revenge.

She giggled at my expression, and I reluctantly reached for the hand she had in my lap.

"I don't want to cause a commotion when I have to walk out of here," I said, tugging on her wrist.

She made a moue, but didn't protest. Laurent returned and I quickly signed the receipt, leaving him a very generous tip. My erection hadn't subsided, but I was too worked up to care. I helped Kate with her wrap, and she took my hand, leading me out of the room and toward the front entrance.

We picked up our coats, and once outside, Kate stood discretely in front of me while one of the valets ran to fetch my car. I quickly realized that she hadn't stood in front of me for modesty's sake. She took a half-step back and pressed her ass against my flagging erection, causing it to quickly return to full staff.

The valet pulled up with the Rover and one of the other young men stepped forward to open Kate's door. I walked around the back of the car and handed the valet a tip. He thanked me and I got into the driver's seat.

As soon as we were out of the restaurant parking lot, Kate turned toward me and reached for my erection. When I shifted in my seat to accommodate her, she took advantage of the situation and opened my belt. The fingers of a skilled surgeon quickly had my zipper open. Her cool hand slipped over the head of my shaft, and I tried to concentrate on the road.

The rest of the drive home was a little bit of a blur, with Kate gently stroking my erection and me trying not to get us killed. But the time I pulled into my garage, she had me in a tizzy. She let go of me only long enough for me to get out of the car—as soon as we met at the door into the house, she had her long fingers once again wrapped around my girth.