The cost of vengeance - [36]

I finally settled on a Dior silk crepe belted dress. A sophisticated, off-the-shoulder design with bow ties, belted waist, and button front details; straight neckline and center rear slit. Jimmy Choo marble stilettos covered in peek-a-boo mesh and lustrous suede. I chose the Dior because its off-the-shoulder design showed off my breasts without being too revealing like the Zac Posen lace or the Versace, but it hugged my curves. And most importantly, it was black, and Mr. Black seems to love it when I wear black for him.

While Rewa did my hair I wondered why I didn’t just invite him over here for cocktails, when he said he had a flight to catch. Especially since my desire was to get him here so I could seduce him. But it was too late to think about that now. I sat there and wondered if there was any chance that he was going through these types of changes about having dinner with me.

The cab dropped me off in front of Bouley at a quarter to six. I usually like to arrive late and make an entrance, but I decided that since his time was limited, my arriving late would be rude. And as you all know, a lady is never rude.

I had only been seated for a while before I looked up and saw Mr. Black with the maitre d’. I gave my most lady-like wave and they came toward my table. I glanced at my watch; he was early and I wondered if it was because he wanted to squeeze in every minute he could with me, or if was he just the type that liked to get to places early.

I stood up when he got to the table because I wanted to make sure he saw what I was wearing. I watched his eyes as he came closer. Mr. Black looked me over from my head to my feet, and smiled the rarest of smiles. He was wearing an Azione by Zanetti charcoal gray suit and a black shirt. He looked so handsome.

“Hello, Ms. West,” he said and kissed me on the cheek. His lips were soft and they sent chills through me. He stepped back and looked me over again. “I have to say, Ms. West, you look extraordinary this evening.”

“Thank you, Mr. Black. You look very handsome as well.”

He held out my chair for me, before taking his seat. He looked deep into my eyes. “It seems like you get more and more beautiful each time I see you.”

“You flatter me.”

“Not flattery, Ms. West; it has the advantage of being true.”

The waiter came and interrupted Mr. Black and I wanted to tell him to go away until he finished telling me how beautiful I looked.

Sure, I had heard it before, but I wanted to hear him say it.

Mr. Black ordered a bottle of vintage Dom Perigain and sent the waiter away. Then he immediately returned his attention to me. “Now, where was I, before we were so rudely interrupted?”

“I believe you were telling me how beautiful you thought I was.”

“Yes. But you probably have men telling you that type of thing everyday/all day, don’t you, Ms. West?”

“I wouldn’t say that. But you’re not every man, are you, Mr. Black?”

We continued to trade compliments while we looked over the menu, and the waiter returned with our champagne. We both ordered the Porcini Flan Dungeness crab, Black Truffle Dashi as an appetizer, and I choose the Long Island Duckling with a Balinese pepper crust, White Truffle honey, julienne of snow peas, Tahitian vanilla-glazed turnips, Verjus, ginger dressing. Mr. Black ordered the Organic Colorado Rack of Lamb, rosemary crust, Langres cheese and zucchini-mint-puree. I was surprised and very impressed that he selected a wine that was appropriate for both of our meals. Sexy and cultured. Each moment I spend with him makes this man become more and more irresistible to me.

We had polite conversation while we sipped champagne and sampled the crab. I have to be honest, I could sit and listen to Mr. Black talk all night; his voice is so soothing and he is quite knowledgeable on a number of subjects. As the waiter served our entree, I thought that there was so much more to him than I’ve given him credit for. I decided to get to business, which after all, was the more important reason for inviting him to have dinner with me.

“I haven’t heard anymore from our friend Oleg Mushnikov since we last spoke,” I said while I sliced the duck.

“And if you do hear from Oleg, I need to know about it right away.”

“Then is it safe to assume that you were able to speak with him?”

“Yes, Ms. West. I had very long talk with Oleg that same evening.”

“Do you mind if I ask how you were able to get him to leave me alone?”

“You could ask,” he said sarcastically.

“But you’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“No, Ms. West, I’m not. Let’s just say that I made Oleg an offer he couldn’t refuse,” Mr. Black said, and I wondered if he had threatened to kill him. The thought that he would kill for me excited me to my core.

“I want to thank you then. I guess now would be a good time for me to ask what that offer that Mr. Mushnikov couldn’t refuse is going to cost me?”

“What do you want to owe me Ms. West?”

“What do you want, Mr. Black?” I asked, instead of offering myself to him.

He looked into my eyes again. “I believe I’ve already gotten what I want from you Ms. West.”