Dinner with the Billionaire

CHAPTER TWO

At six forty-five, Adrian Blake was still arguing with himself about dinner.

It wasn't the food that concerned him. After spending the afternoon reviewing budgets, contacting suppliers, and reorganizing the Christmas event schedule, he would have gladly accepted a bowl of cereal if it meant he could sit down for ten uninterrupted minutes.

The problem was Alexander Sterling.

The man had looked Adrian directly in the eyes and admitted that he was interested in him. Not interested in his proposal, his professional experience, or his ability to save a Christmas celebration that had been planned with all the enthusiasm of a corporate meeting.

Interested in him.

Adrian had replayed the moment more times than he cared to admit.

He stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom, adjusting the collar of his black shirt. He had changed out of his sweater after discovering a small stain on the sleeve, and the fitted shirt made him look considerably more presentable than he felt.

His curls refused to cooperate, so he ran his fingers through them one last time and gave up.

He wasn't dressing up for Alexander.

He was dressing appropriately for dinner at an estate where even the curtains probably cost more than his monthly rent.

That was the explanation he intended to stick with.

A knock sounded at his door.

"Come in."

Eleanor Whitmore stepped inside, carrying a small envelope.

"Mr. Sterling asked me to give you this."

Adrian eyed the envelope suspiciously. "Should I be worried?"

"I don't believe so."

"That's not particularly reassuring."

Eleanor smiled and handed it to him.

Inside was a handwritten note.

The dining room is too formal for dinner tonight. Meet me in the west sitting room at seven. Wear something comfortable.

Adrian read it twice.

Then he looked at Eleanor.

"Did he write this himself?"

"Yes."

"Does he normally send invitations to people staying in his house?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

Adrian exhaled through his nose.

"Wonderful. I'm apparently experiencing a historic occasion."

Eleanor laughed before leaving him alone.

At precisely seven, Adrian walked downstairs and followed the signs toward the west sitting room. He expected another enormous room decorated with expensive furniture and enough empty space to host a small conference.

Instead, he found Alexander standing beside a fireplace, holding two glasses of wine.

The room was warm and inviting, with deep brown leather chairs, a thick rug, and a Christmas tree decorated in gold and burgundy. Snow drifted past the tall windows, while the fire cast a soft glow over the room.

Alexander had abandoned his suit jacket. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his sleeves were folded neatly to his forearms.

Adrian stopped in the doorway.

That was becoming a problem.

Alexander had been attractive in his suit, but without the jacket, he looked less untouchable. There was something about seeing him relaxed in his own home that made Adrian curious about the man behind the intimidating reputation.

Alexander turned.

For a second, his expression changed.

His eyes traveled over Adrian's black shirt, lingering just long enough for Adrian to notice before returning to his face.

Alexander handed him a glass.

Adrian accepted the wine.

"And what do you think of the room?"

Adrian glanced around.

"It's lovely."

"I thought you might appreciate something less formal than the dining room."

"Is that why you moved dinner?"

Alexander looked at him for a moment.

"Partly."

Adrian waited.

Alexander seemed to consider saying more, but instead he gestured toward the sofa.

"Dinner will be brought in shortly. I thought we could discuss the event before it arrives."

Adrian laughed softly.

"There it is. I was wondering when the business meeting would begin."

"I did invite you to dinner for a reason."

"Your investors?"

Alexander met his eyes.

"Not tonight."

The answer was simple, but it made Adrian's fingers tighten around his glass.

Alexander didn't look away.

For the first time since their meeting, Adrian felt uncertain about what to say.

He didn't dislike attention. He wasn't inexperienced enough to mistake every compliment for a declaration of love, either. But Alexander's interest felt different from the casual flirting Adrian had encountered from other men.

The billionaire wasn't trying to charm an entire room.

He was paying attention to one person.

And that person happened to be Adrian.

"You're very direct," Adrian finally said.

"I prefer honesty."

"Even when it's inconvenient?"

"Especially then."

Adrian took a sip of wine to give himself time to think.

"Then I'll be honest, too. I'm here to work. I don't want your interest in me to complicate my contract or make my job uncomfortable."

Alexander's expression became serious.

"That's fair."

Adrian had expected an argument.

Instead, Alexander set his glass on the table.

"I won't interfere with your work, and I won't use your contract to pressure you into anything. If you decide you're not interested, you can tell me, and we'll keep our relationship professional."

The sincerity in his voice caught Adrian off guard.

"You're taking this surprisingly well."

"Would you prefer me to throw a tantrum?"

"Honestly? It would make you easier to understand."

Alexander laughed.

Adrian smiled despite himself.

The tension eased, but something remained between them, a quiet awareness that neither man could entirely ignore.

Alexander wanted him.

Adrian knew it now.

The question was what he intended to do about it.

---

Dinner arrived twenty minutes later.

Rather than a formal meal served by a procession of staff, Eleanor had arranged a simple spread of roasted chicken, vegetables, warm bread, and a rich mushroom sauce. The food was excellent, and Adrian found himself relaxing as they ate.

Alexander, to his surprise, was an engaging conversationalist.

He asked about Adrian's business, how he had started it, and what kind of events he most enjoyed organizing. He listened without interrupting, occasionally asking questions that showed he had paid attention to the answers.

When Adrian explained that he wanted to expand his company into destination weddings and luxury celebrations, Alexander seemed genuinely interested.

"Why haven't you done that already?" he asked.

"Because expansion requires money, staff, and clients willing to trust a company that doesn't have a famous name behind it."

"You have a good portfolio."

"Thank you."

"You could approach larger clients."

"I could. But I don't want to grow faster than I can manage. I'd rather build something stable than accept every opportunity and risk disappointing people."

Alexander studied him.

"That's an unusual attitude in business."

"Is it?"

"Most people I know want growth at any cost."

"That sounds exhausting."

"It can be."

For the first time, Adrian heard something weary beneath Alexander's confident tone.

He set down his fork.

"Do you enjoy what you do?"

Alexander seemed surprised by the question.

"My work?"

"Yes. Your company, your hotels, all of it. Do you actually enjoy it, or are you simply good at it?"

Alexander leaned back.

No one asked him that.

People asked about profits, investments, expansion plans, and the next acquisition. They wanted to know what he intended to buy, which markets he planned to enter, and how he would increase the company's value.

They rarely asked whether he enjoyed the life he had built.

"I enjoy the challenge," he answered after a moment.

"That's not quite the same thing."

"No. It isn't."

Adrian didn't push him.

Somehow, that made Alexander want to tell him more.

He found himself watching the way Adrian listened, his attention undivided, his expression open without being intrusive. Adrian didn't seem desperate to impress him or eager to turn the conversation toward money.

Alexander couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed a dinner this much.

He also couldn't remember the last time he had wanted to reach across a table and touch someone simply because the distance between them felt unnecessary.

Adrian lifted his glass.

"What?"

Alexander realized he had been staring again.

"Nothing."

"You keep doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Looking at me as though you're trying to solve a problem."

Alexander considered denying it.

Instead, he said, "I'm trying to understand you."

Adrian's smile softened.

"I'm not that complicated."

"I don't believe you."

"That's because you've known me for less than a day."

"Perhaps."

Alexander's gaze dropped briefly to Adrian's mouth.

"And yet, I find myself wanting to know more."

The air between them changed.

Adrian looked down at his plate, suddenly very interested in the remaining vegetables.

Alexander noticed the faint color rising in his cheeks.

It gave him a ridiculous amount of satisfaction.

He had spent years learning how to negotiate without revealing what he wanted. He could sit across from an investor who threatened to withdraw millions and remain completely unreadable.

But Adrian blushed, and Alexander forgot how to behave normally.

It was humiliating.

It was also the most exciting thing that had happened to him in months.

---

After dinner, Adrian insisted on seeing the event plans through to the end.

He had work to do, and the Christmas celebration wasn't going to organize itself simply because his client had decided to become charming.

They moved to the large table in Alexander's office, where Adrian spread out the revised floor plans and began explaining the schedule for the following week.

Alexander listened carefully.

Mostly.

He did ask relevant questions. He reviewed the budget and approved the proposed lighting arrangements. He even offered a practical solution to a delivery problem Adrian had been struggling with.

But every time Adrian leaned over the table to point at a detail, Alexander had to remind himself to focus on the documents.

It was becoming absurd.

Adrian smelled faintly of cedar and something clean that Alexander couldn't identify. When he spoke, his voice was warm and expressive, rising with enthusiasm whenever he described an idea he genuinely liked.

Alexander wanted to hear that voice in the mornings.

He wanted to see Adrian walking through the estate without a portfolio in his hands, relaxed enough to forget that he was there to work.

He wanted to discover what made him laugh when he wasn't trying to be professional.

Most inconveniently, he wanted to kiss him.

Not a polite kiss on the cheek. Not a brief, tentative gesture that could be dismissed as an impulsive mistake.

He wanted to draw Adrian close, feel his hands against him, and discover whether the confidence that made him so captivating would turn into something equally captivating when they were alone together.

Alexander shifted in his chair.

This was not how he usually approached attraction.

He preferred to take his time, assess the situation, and decide whether pursuing someone was worth the effort.

With Adrian, the desire came first.

Everything else seemed to be struggling to catch up.

"Alexander?"

He looked up.

Adrian was watching him with an amused expression.

"Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"What did I just say?"

Alexander glanced at the floor plans.

He had absolutely no idea.

Adrian laughed.

"You're hopeless."

"I've been told I'm quite capable."

"Not tonight."

Alexander smiled.

"Perhaps you should explain it again."

"I've explained it three times."

"Then I'm clearly in need of a better teacher."

Adrian shook his head, still smiling, and leaned over the table to retrieve a pen.

Alexander watched him for a moment before forcing his attention back to the plans.

He was in serious trouble.

---

At ten thirty, Adrian finally closed his portfolio.

"I think that's everything for tonight."

Alexander glanced at the clock.

He was surprised by how quickly the evening had passed.

"Have you finished all your calls?"

"Most of them. I'll deal with the remaining suppliers tomorrow morning."

"Good."

Adrian gathered his papers and stood.

"Thank you for dinner."

"You're welcome."

"And for taking the time to discuss the plans properly."

"I hired you because I trust your professional judgment."

Adrian looked at him.

"That's a very sensible thing to say."

"I occasionally say sensible things."

"I'll make a note of it."

Alexander walked him to the office door.

They stopped in the corridor, where the lights from the Christmas tree at the end of the hall reflected against the polished floor.

For a moment, neither man spoke.

Alexander had spent the entire evening wanting to ask Adrian to stay.

Not for another meeting. Not to discuss the event.

Simply to remain in his company a little longer.

He knew how that would sound.

He also knew that if he kept inventing professional excuses, Adrian would eventually recognize the pattern.

So he decided to be honest.

"I enjoyed tonight."

Adrian's expression softened.

"So did I."

"Would you have dinner with me again?"

Adrian tilted his head.

"Another business dinner?"

"No."

The answer came too quickly.

Adrian smiled.

"At least you're learning to be honest."

Alexander let out a quiet laugh.

"I'll take that as progress."

"It is."

Adrian adjusted the papers beneath his arm.

"But I want to be clear about something. I'm not going to rush into anything simply because you're attractive and rich."

Alexander raised an eyebrow.

"Attractive?"

Adrian froze.

For the first time that evening, he looked genuinely embarrassed.

"I said what I said."

Alexander's smile spread slowly.

"Interesting."

"Don't make this difficult."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're smiling."

"Am I not allowed to smile?"

"Not like that."

Alexander laughed.

The sound followed Adrian all the way to the staircase.

Before Adrian could leave, Alexander spoke again.

"Good night, Adrian."

Adrian turned.

"Good night, Alexander."

He started up the stairs, then glanced back once.

Alexander was still standing in the corridor, watching him.

Their eyes met.

Adrian smiled before continuing toward his room.

Alexander remained where he was long after the sound of Adrian's footsteps disappeared.

He had wanted Adrian from the moment he saw him.

That much was undeniable.

But desire alone didn't explain why he had enjoyed their conversation, why Adrian's opinion mattered to him, or why the thought of making him uncomfortable bothered him more than the possibility of being rejected.

He wanted another dinner.

Another conversation.

Another chance to make Adrian smile.

And if he was honest with himself, he wanted considerably more than that.

Upstairs, Adrian shut his bedroom door and leaned against it, staring at the ceiling.

Alexander Sterling was attractive, intelligent, and unexpectedly funny.

He was also his employer, which meant Adrian needed to keep his head firmly attached to his shoulders.

There was no reason to think about the way Alexander had looked at him across the dinner table.

No reason to remember the warmth in his voice when he said Adrian's name.

And absolutely no reason to smile at the thought of seeing him tomorrow.

Adrian crossed the room and placed his portfolio on the desk.

Then he caught sight of the note Alexander had sent earlier.

Meet me in the west sitting room at seven.

He picked it up, read it once, and shook his head.

"This man is going to be a problem."

Downstairs, Alexander Sterling was reaching exactly the same conclusion.

The difference was that Alexander had already decided he didn't mind.

In fact, as he turned off the lights in his office, he found himself looking forward to the next day with an anticipation he hadn't felt in years.

Christmas was still seventeen days away.

And for the first time in his life, Alexander Sterling had a wish that no amount of money could guarantee.

He wanted Adrian Blake to want him back.