Chapter 406

After some thought, Ross answered reluctantly. “Next time.”

Danielle blinked in disbelief, thinking, ‘Did I not make myself obvious enough? He’s actually turning me down? What about my pride?’

She bit her lip and raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that, Ross?”

Ross nodded, dead serious.

Annoyed, Danielle slid off his lap with a shrug. “Fine. I’ll go finish packing.”

Her sweet scent lingered as she walked away, and even as it faded, Ross still felt it tugging at something inside him.

Half an hour later, they headed out for dinner. The restaurant was a beautifully restored historic fine dining spot, open only to guests with reservations.

Ross had booked a place there that morning. Their private room was softly lit by vintage amber lighting, with a faint hint of rose in the air. It was quiet, romantic, and warm.

“Try the soup here. It’s really good,” Ross said, ladling a bowl and placing it gently in front of Danielle. She picked up the spoon without a word, then sipped the soup slowly with her head hung low.

Ross placed a piece of the ribeye steak he had cut onto her plate and asked, “Are you mad?”

Danielle looked up. Her lips, plump and glossy from the hot soup, curved into a smile. “Why would I be mad at you, Ross? You’re so thoughtful, so I should be thanking you.”

Ross blinked. That… sounded like forgiveness, but something still felt off. Just then, the waiter arrived with the next round of dishes.

Under the table, Danielle’s foot brushed up against Ross‘ calf. When he realized what she was doing, he stiffened. In response, she slipped off her heels, her toes painted a seductive red, gliding boldly up his thigh, clearly heading somewhere dangerous.

Ross instinctively reached under the table, catching her ankle with a firm grip. “Don’t mess around here.”

The waiter paused, glancing over. Ross didn’t so much as flinch. After all, with company present, he couldn’t say anything more.

Danielle rested her chin on her hand, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she asked innocently, “What did I do?”

Ross didn’t respond. Sensing the mood, the waiter tactfully turned and left their private room. With that, Danielle followed up with a prim, perfectly timed line. “My shoe fell by your foot, Ross.”

Ross glanced down. Sure enough, her custom-made Chanel heel was beside his foot. So, he picked it up and slid it back onto her foot.

But the moment he did, his gaze fell on her legs, which were exposed beneath the table. Her dress had a high slit that climbed up her thigh, revealing glimpses of her smooth skin.

Danielle continued to tease, “My legs are sore, Ross. Give them a massage, will you?”

“Danielle,” Ross warned, his voice turning hoarse.

“Hurry up,” she said innocently.

Ross gulped. As a pampered heir, he’d never waited on anyone like this before–but for Danielle, he didn’t mind one bit.

Of course, he knew the whole “sore legs” excuse was pure nonsense. And yet, he found himself indulging her anyway. Soon, his large, warm palm kneaded her calf gently.

“Harder.” Danielle pouted.

Ross obliged, pressing a little firmer, and in response, Danielle let out a soft, drawn-out hum. “A little higher.” Once he moved his hands higher, she purred, “Mmm, right there. Ross, you’re so good with your hands.”

If someone heard her without seeing what was happening, they’d definitely be picturing something else entirely.

After a few minutes, Ross asked, “Is that enough?”

Danielle finally pulled her leg back and gave him a sweet, “Thank you.”

Ross grabbed a warm towel to wipe his hands. The temperature in the private dining room was just right, yet he still found himself undoing the top button of his collar. But even as he did, the soft, warm feel of her legs lingered stubbornly in his palm.

Danielle noticed that, and her smile grew wider.