The Billionaire's New Year Gift. Emma Darcy

      There was no other word for it. She looked gorgeous.

      “Wow,” he said.

      She smiled. “I clean up good, huh?”

      “That’s an understatement.”

      She stood back to let him in. “So do you.” She gave him an appreciative once-over. “Nice threads.”

      “Thanks.” He handed her the flowers. “I hope you like roses.”

      “I love roses, and these are just beautiful. Thank you.”

      He could see her pleasure was genuine, and it made him feel good. He tried to remember the last time he’d spontaneously bought flowers for a woman and couldn’t. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked forward to being with a woman. Most of his social life consisted of obligatory attendance at some black-tie affair.

      When she turned to place the vase on the small credenza in her entryway, Alex’s breath stopped for a moment. Her dress plunged in a deep V in the back—almost to her waist—exposing smooth porcelain skin. Skin he knew would warm to his touch.

      He could feel himself becoming aroused and had to force his thoughts away from that skin and how it had felt last night. “You’ll need a wrap,” he said. “It’s already cooling off.”

      “I know.” She reached for a black knit shawl lying on a needlepoint-covered chair next to the credenza and wrapped it around her shoulders. Picking up a small silk bag that had been under it, she gave him a bright smile. “I’m ready.”

      As they walked out into the already darkening evening, Alex could smell her perfume—something light and clean—just the kind of fragrance he would have imagined she’d wear. When they reached his truck, he helped her in. Her legs looked fantastic in those heels. He wondered if she knew how fantastic. “I’m sorry I don’t have a nice car for the occasion.”

      “I like trucks,” she said with a smile.

      “Hey, what happened with your car?” he asked after he had walked around and gotten into the driver’s seat.

      “My neighbor gave me a jump this morning, and I took it to Sears for a new battery.”

      “Good.”

      She shifted in the seat, which caused her skirt to ride up another inch or so. Yes, those were definitely gorgeous legs. In fact, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes on the road.

      “Where are we going?” she asked.

      He smiled. “It’s a surprise.” Turning to her, he added, “Want to listen to music?”

      “What’re my choices?”

      He thought about his CDs. “Sheryl Crow, Martina McBride, Michelle Branch, Beyoncé, James Taylor, the Beatles, Coldplay…I’ve even got some classical stuff, if you prefer that.”

      She started to laugh. “That’s the strangest mix of music I’ve ever heard.”

      He grinned sheepishly. “I’ve got eclectic tastes.”

      “I guess.”

      “So what’ll it be?”

      “Martina McBride.”

      He inserted the CD. The first song was “My Baby Loves Me,” and within moments, P.J. was tapping her fingers on the console between the front seats and humming along with the music. When the song ended and the next one began, she said, “We’re going to the River Lodge, aren’t we?”

      “Yes.”

      He could feel her eyes on him. Turning to meet her gaze, he saw the speculative look. “What?” he said.

      “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? How’d you know about the Lodge?”

      “The Internet. I just searched on restaurants and that one seemed to fill the bill.” Now he wondered if he’d made a mistake. He couldn’t afford to make her suspicious again, now that she seemed to finally trust him. First he needed to get a ring on her finger. “I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

      “The Lodge is very nice,” she said softly. “I haven’t been there in a long time.”

      It suddenly hit him how much he wanted to please this woman…and keep pleasing her. Maybe his father’s plan was unorthodox, but it sure seemed to be working. This was the first time in years—maybe the first time ever—that Alex had felt this way about a woman. Usually, he was counting the minutes until he could escape.

      “The drive is coming up right around this bend,” she said. “It’ll be on your left.” She smiled when he glanced her way. “It’s kind of hard to see if you’ve never been there.”

      An understatement, Alex realized. On his own, he would have passed it up. Only a small sign marked the turn, and in the dark, it was almost impossible to see.

      The drive climbed uphill for about one hundred yards, then turned to the left through a stand of tall pines. Finally they came to a rustic building surrounded by trees and bordering the Jansen River to the right. The trees were strung with tiny white lights and reminded Alex of Tavern on the Green in New York.

      He surrendered the truck to the valet parking attendant and, hand on her elbow, escorted P.J. through the front entrance and into the restaurant. A pretty hostess with long black hair and a brilliant smile greeted them. Alex gave his name—almost saying Hunt before he caught himself—and they were promptly ushered to a table by the window. The river beyond was a dark ribbon with patches of moonlight shining upon it.

      Alex looked around. He’d been in some high-end restaurants over the years, and the River Lodge compared favorably in ambiance. Now if the food lived up to its touted excellence, he’d be a happy man.

      About thirty tables ringed a small dance floor. In the corner was a tiny elevated stage with a grand piano next to it. Either the combo providing music for the evening hadn’t started yet or they were taking a break.

      “The musicians start playing at eight,” P.J. said.

      A lighted candle flickered in a cut-glass holder in the middle of their table. Her face, reflected in the candle’s glow, seemed younger and softer than it normally did. Maybe that’s because she was more relaxed. She smiled at him. “This is nice.”

      “It is.” He wished he could tell her about some of the places he’d been, some of the places he’d like to take her…but that would be too dangerous.

      Just then their waiter approached, and the next few minutes were taken up with ordering drinks. After he left to place their orders at the bar, Alex said, “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

      She didn’t answer for a long moment. When she did, she prefaced it with a sigh. “I don’t know, Alex. I keep thinking this is a mistake.”

      “A mistake?” He couldn’t have read her wrong. She’d been just as turned on last night as he’d been. She certainly hadn’t resisted.

      She met his gaze squarely. “You work for me. Remember?”

      Reaching across the table, he took her hand. Her fingers were slim, the nails unpainted but nicely shaped. “I’ll make you a promise, P.J. If my working for you turns out to be a problem, I’ll find another job.”

      Before she could answer, their waiter arrived with their wine. Alex reluctantly let go of her hand. They didn’t talk as the waiter served them a plate of some kind of pâté and a basket of warm French bread.

      Once he was gone, she said, “I couldn’t let you do that, Alex. It wouldn’t be right.” Worry clouded her blue eyes.

      “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” He reached for his wineglass. “Let’s not have any more talk about anything serious. Let’s just dedicate tonight, our first real date, to enjoying each other’s company