Strawberry Kisses by Phavy Prieto (always you kirsty moseley .TXT) 📕

I closed the browser tab without going into much detail about his family, assuming I had enough with his repertoire of escorts I had found. I focused again on the reports which, at least, were something I could perfectly master. Until the moment in which the noise of the door made me look away from the papers: Adonis returned. With the difference that now he had loosened the knot of his tie a little, opened his jacket and disheveled his hair compared to a few hours before.

I think he looks even better, if this were humanly possible.

"Shall we go?" he asked with that charming smile.

"Yes, sure!" I said getting up and going to the coat stand where my bag was. "Where do we go?" I asked with a fleeting look so that he couldn’t realize the effect he was causing on me. To such an extent that I even touched my face to see if I was really blushing.

"To one of my favorite restaurants," he replied, opening the door for me to pass.

"I suppose that we will have only an hour to eat," I said trying to look responsible.

"Well, not today," he replied. "In fact, I'll establish what time your lunch starts and when it finishes."

"But I have to work..."

"Shush..." he grabbed me by the waist and placed a finger on my lips as he looked at me intently. "You won't deprive me of the dessert. It's the best part."

The brightness of his gaze, his shining eyes made me wonder if I could be that sweet. But, for some reason, I would never ask him to keep enjoying that intriguing doubt.

Chapter VII

"Is the Italian cuisine your favorite?" I asked Damian as he parked in front of a spectacular venue.

"There is nothing better than authentic Italian cuisine. I can assure you this is one of the few places of its kind in Madrid that stands out from all the others."

And so our Adonis also has a superfine palate.

"I think this will be the closest experience to a trip to Italy I will ever have," I said with certain sadness.

I have always focused too much on work, on saving money in order to buy an apartment, on being mature and responsible that somehow I completely abandoned my real desires, including traveling. I knew very little about the world. I have been only to London and exclusively to attend an English course that was supposed to help me to make a career. I didn't even have the opportunity to get to know the city.

"You have never been to Italy?" he asked amazed as if it was something impossible.

As if I was the only person in the world who hadn't visited the giant boot!

"I had other priorities," I said in order not to appear an uneducated person.

"Maybe I'll have to try to fix that," he said with those shining eyes that seemed to want to devour me at any moment.

"Are you referring to my priorities or to the fact that I have never been to Italy?" I asked hesitantly.

"Both," he concluded. I froze completely to such an extent that Damian had to put his arm around my waist and make me walk again to enter the restaurant.

"First Scotland, then the concert and now Italy. I am beginning to suspect that you have few friends, Mr. Devoir," was the first banality that came to my mind in order not to seem stupid.

I pulled away as he burst into a thunderous laughter. I was observing him as half of the bystanders turned to observe us.

Fuck privacy! They've already seen the walking hottie. Now he will be the object of study for all the diners.

"I don't consider myself a person with few friends, but from a certain point of view I find you much more interesting than most of them," his voice was extremely seductive. The arrival of the waiter, who greeted us and smiled amicably, brought me back down to earth.

Apparently, Damian Devoir used to go to that restaurant often, because as soon as we sat down at the table, the maître d' too came personally to greet him. He delighted us with a bottle of excellent wine as a welcome gift even before we could browse the menu.

I had never been to a restaurant where they offered me a bottle of wine. Actually, not even a bottle of water. It was a sign that Adonis had so much money that probably he had a tree in his garden on which banknotes grew instead of apples.

"What are you thinking of?" he asked suddenly, diverting my attention from my thoughts and bringing me back to reality.

"What? Oh, nothing... Do you have trees in your garden?" I asked without any consistency.

He must think I'm an idiot! Indeed, I would be surprised if at this point he didn't think so already.

"Now that you mention it, I do have a tree in my living room," he replied, taking his glass and inviting me to do the same with mine. "I hope that I won't have the same luck as that poor fellow you threw wine at the other night!"

Honestly, I almost forgot he was there.

"And thus waste a good... Barolo?" I said, looking at the name of the wine on the label.

"Smart girl," he said, offering a toast and then bringing the glass to his lips. I imitated his gesture. That wine was excellent indeed. "Are you interested in botany?" he asked.

"The story of the tree in your living room was a joke, right?" I asked smiling.

"Absolutely not. You can come over whenever you want to check that I am not lying". His voice seemed serene and sweet, but, given his intense gaze, I could tell that was an indecent proposal.

"Shall I