Elena bit down hard on her lower lip, barely managing to suppress the soft whimper threatening to escape her throat. Her legs felt so weak that she was almost afraid she might slide right out of her chair.
All she could do was let Richard keep her firmly trapped in the cramped, dangerously intimate space beneath the table.
Her hands tightened around her cutlery, her knuckles turning white.
The contrast was almost absurd—the two of them looking perfectly composed above the table while an entirely different kind of tension unfolded beneath it.
Her mind was rapidly becoming a complete blur.
A sudden, measured knock sounded against the private dining room door.
A moment later, a polite yet enthusiastic male voice came through the carved wooden door.
“Mr. Sterling, good evening. I’m Darren Smith, the regional director for Le Rêve. I heard you were dining with us tonight. It’s truly an honor to have you here. Would you mind if I came in and say hello?”
Elena: “…”
So this was what came with dining with Richard’s level of status?
Even dinner came with this many interruptions.
And considering what the man across from her had been doing, the whole situation felt even more ridiculous.
She had no idea what Richard was going to do.
Would he let the man in?
Richard glanced at her.
Elena tried to pull her leg free.
It didn’t move an inch.
Instead of loosening his hold, Richard pressed his leg inward slightly, keeping her ankle firmly caught between his knee and calf.
Elena couldn’t help giving him a light kick with her other foot.
Even then, she didn’t dare use much force.
Richard wasn’t angry.
He simply gave her an almost amused look before calmly wiping the corner of his mouth with his napkin.
“Come in.”
The door opened quietly.
A middle-aged man in a perfectly tailored designer suit and neatly slicked-back hair walked in with a broad, welcoming smile.
Behind him came an impeccably dressed sommelier carrying a tray.
On it sat a decanter filled with ruby-red wine, its rich aroma already noticeable in the room.
“Mr. Sterling, I apologize for interrupting your dinner.”
Darren bowed slightly, his manner exceptionally respectful.
This was Richard Sterling.
One of the most powerful figures in the financial world.
A man of his stature rarely needed to dine at a restaurant like this in person.
Even a three-Michelin-star establishment like Le Rêve considered a visit from him an unusual honor.
And tonight, he had brought a woman.
That was a first.
Richard had always kept his private life remarkably private. Although he had become a father at a relatively young age, the identity of his child’s mother had never been made public.
Over the years, there had never been a real romantic scandal surrounding him.
Partly because the media knew better than to fabricate stories about him.
But also because he had never allowed anyone into his private life.
“No.”
Richard leaned back in his chair, one hand resting on the table, his index finger continuing to tap lightly against the side of his glass.
He didn’t even bother to stand.
He merely gave Darren a slight nod.
The gesture carried the effortless authority of a man accustomed to having everyone around him adjust to his presence.
“Mr. Sterling, this is a bottle of Romanée-Conti that was just flown in from Burgundy. It’s an exceptional vintage. When I heard you were dining here tonight, I had my people decant it especially for you and your lovely guest.”
Darren smoothly filled the silence as he gestured for the sommelier to step forward and pour.
He was usually excellent at reading people.
He knew someone like Richard had very little patience for unnecessary interruptions, so his original plan had been simple: exchange a few polite words, leave the wine, and get out.
But tonight, Richard unexpectedly didn’t dismiss him.
The man turned his head slightly, watching the deep red wine slowly fill the crystal glass.
Then, almost unusually, he asked,
“How are the tannins on this one?”
The moment Richard actually responded, Darren’s expression brightened.
He launched into an enthusiastic explanation of the wine’s vineyard, vintage, soil composition, and layers of flavor on the palate.
He spoke confidently and at length.
Across the table, Elena felt as though she were enduring the longest, most torturous dinner of her life.
Because the moment Darren began talking, Richard’s leg beneath the table moved.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The powerful muscle beneath his expensive tailored trousers pressed firmly against her calf through the thin fabric, the sudden heat making her tense.
Then his leg shifted slightly higher.
“…”
Elena grabbed the glass of ice water beside her and took a large gulp, desperately trying to suppress the sound threatening to escape.
“Cough—cough, cough…”
As expected, she choked.
Darren’s voice stopped immediately.
He turned toward her, concern crossing his face.
“Miss, are you all right?”
Richard’s deep gaze settled on Elena’s flushed face.
The faintest trace of wicked amusement appeared at the corner of his mouth.
“I’m fine,” Elena said, quickly recovering and forcing a small smile. “Please, go on.”
Darren immediately nodded and continued, his polite smile returning as he resumed talking about the history of the estate.
Elena lightly bit her lower lip, folding her hands together on the table so tightly that her nails nearly dug into her palms.
With a third person watching them, the secret contact beneath the table suddenly felt far more intense.
The longer Darren talked, the bolder Richard’s movements beneath the table became.
He seemed to take particular pleasure in watching Elena maintain a perfectly composed expression in front of someone else while clearly struggling to keep herself together.
The rough wool-blend fabric brushing against her skin sent another wave of tingling sensation through her each time.
Elena felt her composure slowly slipping away, her eyes filling with involuntary moisture.
She had no idea how much time had passed before Darren finally finished his detailed account of the wine’s history.
Satisfied, he watched Richard lift his glass and take a small sip.
Darren was just about to offer another compliment when his gaze accidentally fell on Elena again.
He paused.
The young woman’s face was noticeably flushed.
“Miss…”
Darren leaned forward slightly, concern returning to his expression.
“Is the air conditioning too cold in here? Would you like me to have someone raise the temperature, or perhaps bring you a shawl?”
The atmosphere in the private dining room suddenly changed.
Richard’s hand stopped halfway through swirling the wine in his glass.
The faint amusement in his eyes vanished completely.
In its place was a cold, intensely intimidating edge.
He slowly raised his eyes and gave Darren a chilling look.
That single glance made Darren feel as though he’d just been noticed by a top predator.
Cold sweat instantly broke out across his back, and the smile on his face froze.
Richard suddenly found himself irritated.
He genuinely enjoyed seeing Elena this flustered, struggling to maintain her composure while sitting across from him.
But he had no intention of sharing that private moment with someone else.
Darren was merely an interruption, yet he had dared to keep looking at her.
A powerful, possessive instinct surged through Richard.
“No need.”
His voice dropped several degrees.
“Leave the wine. You can go.”
Even Darren, who was usually excellent at reading a room, immediately understood the displeasure and dismissal in Richard’s tone.
He had no idea what he’d said wrong.
Was Richard annoyed because he’d been looking at the woman beside him?
Then it clicked.
After all these years, Richard had never been publicly linked to any woman.
Maybe this was the first time he’d actually taken an interest in someone.
Darren immediately lowered his head.
“Yes, of course. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. Sterling. If you need anything at all, just let us know.”
With that, he hurried out with the sommelier as though escaping a dangerous situation, closing the door behind them as quietly as possible.