Princess

Chapter 22: I See You

Ariadne

Half an hour later, we were sitting in a dilapidated New York Pizzeria, two enormous $1 slices of pizza resting on the small table between us. Mario, the owner an old friend of mine, handed it over to us for free. Damon inspected the slices like they were filled with anthrax. I laughed at the frown lines covering his chiseled face.

"We just ate dinner, what are we doing here?" He asked, poking the slice with a napkin as if it was going to jump out and attack him.

Gulping down the enormous bite I'd torn off, I wiped my mouth of the escaping sauce and grinned. "Fine dining portion sizes are not my roll. I am starving; eat up or I will eat yours too."

"Be my guest."

"Damon," I hissed and that got his attention. "Eat the fucking pizza."

He stared at me with his cold gray eyes, a flicker of amusement passing through before picked up a napkin and dabbed at it ruthlessly. When most of the grease, half of the cheese, and all the fun was drained from it, he took a cautious bite, nibbling at the edge. He chewed slowly, his eyelids fluttered, and he swallowed, breaking into a grin that could light up New York City.

Holy shit.

Damon Hale had dimples on his cheeks that made me want to die inside. I had never seen him smile this wide and I made it my personal mission to make sure he smiled this big for the rest of his life just so I could see them. I never even knew he had dimples.

He couldn't possibly be a ruthless killer. The world wouldn't do that, right?

"I'll be damned," he said before taking another monstrous bite out of it and I laughed nervously.

We looked ridiculous, my expensive gown sweeping dust off the floor and arms stuck through a Kiton suit jacket entirely too big for me as I sat opposite his enormous biceps, threatening to rip through his dress shirt attached to his perfectly sculpted body.

This might have just been the best date I'd ever been on.

Our conversation picked up from the restaurant and we ate more pizza, demolishing four enormous slices between us. I couldn't keep track of how much time has passed.

"So how does Ariadne Ryder end up in this joint?" He asked, settling back in his chair.

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Your father is a billionaire," he stated plainly.

My chest burned, because I didn't want to think about my father when I was finally having a good night. "So? You're up there too."

He shrugged. "I'm not normal. Most of New York hates me."

"That's because you scare them. Or you've slept with them."

A wicked look crossed his eyes. "I've had strangers tell me they loved me when I was inside them, Doc."

My thighs clenched. "That's not love, Damon. It's lust. But I'm sure they do love the little man in between your legs," I said, swirling a finger at his general abdominal region.

Throwing his head back, he laughed. "I assure you there's nothing little about it."

Now that, I believed. Memories of his impressive length pushing into me flood back into my mind, making me blush as it so often did this past week.

"This conversation is vile," I rolled my eyes.

"You never answered my question," he said calmly.