Lion of Midnight by Aliyah Burke Page A

him to seat her. He was still surrounded by that crisp, outdoorsy smell and scent of pure virile male. Her mouth watered for another reason when he pulled the cover off the dish on the table.
    “Oh, wow,” she breathed. “Smells divine.”
    “Goose with apples drizzled in a brown sugar/caramel sauce, freshly baked wheat rolls, and some boiled cabbage.” Nikolas slid her in close before moving to the other side and taking his seat.
    Her mouth watered as she looked over the spread before her. The butter even tempted. It looked soft, whipped almost. “This looks amazing,” she said as she unfolded her linen napkin and placed it across her lap.
    “Thank you. I’ll pass your compliments on to the chef.”
    She nodded in thanks. Cleo could feel her belly rolling in anticipation of tasting this incredible feast. Still, she waited. She’d never eaten first unless out with girlfriends—then she’d eat when they did—otherwise, she’d always waited for her husband to take the first bite.
    Nikolas searched for and held her gaze. “Something wrong?” he asked, his fork hesitating partway to his mouth.
    “No, not at all. Just an old habit, I apologize.”
    His eyes narrowed. “Something to do with your stupid ex-husband, I am guessing.”
    She forced a smile. Thinking about the ex was not how she wanted to spend her evening. Lifting the fork, she took a bite of the succulent meat. It seemed to fall apart in her mouth, the taste spreading through her, and a moan of pure pleasure escaped. Sweet Jesus.
    A knowing grin flittered across his face as he, too, put his fork in his mouth. Cleo had a hard time swallowing as she watched his jaw in the flickering light. The gentle glow from the fire and candles made his skin seem like soft gold. The strong, aristocratic set of his face made her imagine things like them on the floor in front of the very fire in the room. How goose would taste from his lips. Yanking her eyes from him, she focused on her plate. Cleo ignored the feelings that coursed through her body.
    “I don’t bite, Cleo. You can look at me.” His low voice flowed over her skin like velour and silk. When she met his dark gaze, he winked. “Until you tell me to bite you, that is.” He licked his lips.
    She shuddered at the pure sexual implications of his smooth words. I’m in so much trouble with this one. Slowly, but with deliberation, Cleo blinked once and held his gaze. Keeping the fork poised before her mouth she smiled. “Do I get to pick the place, as well?” she asked with a slow drawl.
    His eyes appeared almost black for a moment as he glanced at her. When he blinked and looked upon her again, she noticed they had lightened but were no less tumultuous. “Oh, yes,” he said with promise.
    “I’ll keep that in mind,” she retorted and turned her attention back to her food.

Chapter Seven
    Nik clenched his teeth against the surge of longing that swept through him. The erection in his pants was harder than the granite from which his home had been built. Every pore in his body yelled for him to sweep his arm through the items gracing the table, to hell with where they landed, and take the woman across from him. Over and over until they both collapsed from exhaustion.
    His cock pulsed as her full lips curved up enticingly before gently hiding the fork with a bite of goose and cabbage on it. Nik’s gaze never moved from her lips as she pulled out the clean utensil. It was like a cotton field had taken up residence in his mouth, as dry as it was. The smile that teased the corners told him she knew how she affected him.
    Putting down his fork, he reached for a roll and broke it open, inhaling the rich fragrance as steam spiraled up to the ceiling. With a silver knife, he spread the homemade butter on it, watching as it melted into the soft bread. Nik took a bite and chewed slowly as he prayed for control. Every second he spent in her presence, he felt himself reverting back to the warrior who didn’t give