There was a sincere apology in Becky's tone. But Anna didn't blame her for any of this. How could she have known?
"It's all right." She gave Becky a pointed look. "But I do need you to understand that with him buying out my complete stock and placing another order, it will be a while before I can provide anything for the gallery."
Becky grinned. "Actually that might be a good thing. Making your pieces a little more elusive and difficult to acquire will only increase their value."
Becky turned to James, whose eyes were still drilling holes into Anna. "I'll handle the delivery to your home. Is there anything else you need?"
James pursed his lips as his gaze traveled down Anna's frame for what felt like the hundredth time in a matter of minutes. "I'm sure I'll think of something else, but I don’t want to push my luck any further today.”
Anna's gut twisted at his words, but she gave Becky a hesitant smile as they left. A whimper escaped her lips as she sagged against the wall, slightly weak as the ramifications of her capitulation dawned on her.
How in the world would she survive a dinner alone with him?
Chapter 6
Key West
Anna gnawed on her thumbnail as she paced along the sidewalk, her calf-length dress swishing and flaring each time she swiveled in the opposite direction. She'd arrived on time for the business dinner, but with her anxiety riding high, she hadn't made it to the entrance.
Yes! It's a business dinner, and only a business dinner. Not a date, no matter what he says.
Her gaze drifted down, catching sight of the soft, flowing black silk, and she grimaced. It was her best garment by far with its halter top and open back, highlighting her fair complexion and relative curves. She rarely had a chance to wear it.
She'd grabbed it, assuring herself the dress code would be high for this dining establishment. She definitely didn't wear it for him.
But deep down, she knew she was lying to herself.
What the hell am I doing here? This can only end badly.
Throwing a resentful glare at the restaurant door, she shook her head and resumed her worried march across the uneven concrete.
Theoretically, she should be excited about having dinner at Osteria Francesca. As a relatively new Italian restaurant in Old Town, it had received rave reviews from locals. She'd planned to give it a shot but hadn't found the time.
But instead of being full of anticipation for dinner, she was a ball of nerves. That was her dinner companion's fault. She hadn’t had a moment of peace since she'd crashed into him in that back alley off Duval Street. Or actually, since he stepped foot on the island. And now that she’d met him in the flesh, her dreams had grown even steamier.
She cringed as a sequence from the previous night's dream flashed through her mind.
"Open for me, Anna. Look at me as I take you."
She squeezed her eyes shut as she grit her teeth. This had to stop. She'd regretted agreeing to this dinner nearly the moment she'd said yes and had been thoroughly tempted to text a cancellation to James throughout the day.
But she knew he'd only persist until she eventually caved, so she might as well get it over now and decline any further invitations. She'd make it very clear that he was only a client and nothing would come of their dinner.
Yeah, sure. I’d be a fool to believe that.
With a groan and an aggravated huff, she pivoted on the ball of her foot and scowled at the red brick and sun-bleached coral building. After tonight, she’d spend the next week trying to forget it ever happened. Marching to the entry, she yanked the door open dramatically and fell back with a gasp.
James stood there in the doorway, an amused twinkle in his dreamy green eyes. Apparently he'd watched while she'd worn a rut into the sidewalk debating whether or not to run.
The man was striking as ever with his dark hair and five o’clock shadow, sleek and polished, very much like the picture she'd found of him online. Except this time he was dressed indark slacks with a light blue button-up that was open nearly to mid-chest. He looked relaxed and so similar to how he appeared in her dreams that it made her shiver.
She lifted her chin, issuing a challenge through her gaze as she arched an eyebrow. "Are you ready?" she asked, feeling like she was walking to the electric chair.
"Whenever you are," he answered, a teasing grin playing around his lips. He pivoted slightly, gesturing her into the restaurant with a slight bow. He knew this was torture for her.
Damn him.
She stalked past toward the hostess stand, making sure they didn't touch as she moved around him. But his intoxicating cologne still reached her nose and the spicy scent triggered an insane urge to lean into his chest for another sniff. "Dinner for two, please."
