“Only if you don’t mind ruining your makeup and walking around with just-fucked hair.” There’s no way to be gentle with Saige. To fuck her with decorum. The minute I touch her, I want to tear her apart and bury myself inside her.

She sighs unhappily.

“You’re right. But maybe on the way back.” Definitely on the way back.

She winks at me before sliding into the backseat. I get in after her and the driver shuts the door. He already has our destination, so this is going to be a surprise for Saige.

“Where are we going?” she says, looking out the tinted windows.

“You’ll see,” I say, taking her hand. I just need to touch her.

In my mind, I know I’m getting in too deep with this girl. I should pull back, but if I do, then I might lose all the ground I’ve gained and I can’t do that. Saige is a mark. I stare at her and tell myself she’s a job. Just a job.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

She looks back at me.

“Nothing. Just that I’m so lucky that you and I walked into the same coffee shop. Do you ever think about that? How bizarre it is to meet someone like that? If you went to a different place, or lived in a different city, we never would have met.”

Yes. I do think about little coincidences. My parents met because of coincidences and that meeting shaped the rest of my life, Lizzy’s life, and caused my mother’s death.

“Do you believe in fate?” she says, her green eyes intense as they look into mine.

“Yes,” I lie with a smile.

“It used to be a speakeasy,” I say as I help her out of the car twenty minutes later. The entrance to the restaurant is nothing special. Just the entrance to a brownstone in what seems like a residential neighborhood.

“You’re kidding,” she says as we walk up the steps and I knock on the door.

“Nope.” The door opens a crack and a man asks if we have a reservation.

“Brand, two,” I say and the door opens. I hear Saige draw in a startled breath. The space is cramped and narrow. And dark. Lit only by red bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

“Follow me,” the host says, leading us across creaking wood floors. The sound is muffled and I wonder if they added the extra soundproofing, or if that was part of the original construction.

At the end of the hall is another door and the host opens it with a metal key. The whole atmosphere is secretive and intoxicating.

Once the door opens, the sound hits us full force and it’s like stepping into another world.

“Wow,” Saige breathes beside me.

The place is impressive. Done in rich reds and burgundies with lots of brick and leather, the place feels old. The bar is made from old barrels, probably handmade.

Scratchy music pipes through speakers, purposefully distorted to add to the ambience.

The host leads us toward the back, to a corner with two worn leather chairs and a small table that is also mounted on a barrel. The lights are dim back here and I watch Saige’s face as she looks around.

“This is extraordinary,” she says, beaming at me. “Well done, you.”

“Thank you,” I say as the host brings us water and hands over a dinner and drink menu.

“Would you like to know our specials?” We both nod and he lists them off from memory, adding which are his favorites.

“Everything sounds so good,” Saige says, looking at me. I agree. I’d love to order the entire menu, including the drinks.

“I’ll give you a few minutes,” he says and leaves us.

Oh my God, Saige mouths at me. “This place is seriously cool.”

“I thought you might like it.” I knew with her affinity for art, Saige would appreciate the history behind the place, which is printed on the back of the menu.

“It feels like stepping through time,” Saige says as Louis Armstrong pipes through hidden speakers. “Thank you for bringing me here. I never would have known about this place if it wasn’t for you.” She reaches across the table and I give her my hand. This time she kisses the back of it and my skin tingles from the contact. There’s much too much table between us. I’d be content for her to sit on my lap, but that might look a little weird.

“You’re very extremely welcome,” I say. “So, what are you going to get?”

“Well, I’m definitely starting with the Mary Pickford.” I look over the drinks and choose a Sidecar. We discuss appetizers and decide on lobster canapes. Our waiter comes to take our drink orders and we also order our appetizer and meals.

“Here’s to Prohibition,” Saige says, raising her Mary Pickford. I raise my Sidecar and we toast.

“To Prohibition,” I say, giving her a wink.

The atmosphere the restaurant creates is seductive and smooth. The drinks go down easy and the laughter flows. I feel more free to talk here. Almost as if I can let myself be a little more Sylas and a little less Quinn.

Saige is radiant. Not that she isn’t always, but under the lights and with the effects of the alcohol, I can’t take my eyes off her.

“You’re staring, Quinn Brand.”

“You’re beautiful, Saige Beaumont,” I say. She rolls her eyes at me, but there’s a smile on her face.

“What a line.”

“It’s my goal to use every single one of them on you.”

She sips her drink and raises her eyebrows.

“All of them?”

“All of them.”

She shakes her head and then I feel her foot sliding up my leg.

“Be careful, Saige Beaumont,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The music throbs in my ears and it’s hard not to dive over the table and bury myself in her right now. I just had her several times, and all I want is more.

She’s a job.

Just a job.

“I love this song,” she says, closing her eyes and swaying. We’ve finished our meals and I’m wondering if she wants dessert. Or if she’s ready to go back to the hotel and let me fuck her some more.

But I get to my feet and hold out my hand. We danced on our first date and it seems only right to dance now.

I don’t know the song, but it’s a rich jazz number, slow enough to dance close to Saige. I hold her and we move together and I close my eyes because she’s too much. Sometimes I can’t take all of her at once.

Just a job.

Saige sighs and rests her cheek on my heart.

I hold her and throw myself into being Quinn. I’ve let myself be too much Sylas and that has to stop. I have to protect myself against this woman.

I’ve never been in love. You have to open yourself up for something like that. It’s less of loving someone else and more letting yourself be loved. And I can’t let that happen. Not in a romantic sense. I love Lizzy and that’s enough for me. Loving someone is giving them the ultimate power to hurt you and I will never give that power away.

Saige tilts her head and looks up at me.

“You’re very good at this, Quinn. This dating thing.”

My breath catches when she says the word “dating”.

“Is that what we’re doing? Are you asking me to define our relationship?” Or DTR as Cash calls it.

“Would that be okay? We don’t have to. We can keep going like we have if you want.” No. This is an important part of the process. I need her to trust me implicitly.

“I would love to have the honor of dating you, Saige.” She smiles and burrows into my chest again.

“Good. I want to date you, too. But I just have one rule.” She looks up at me again and her green eyes are serious.

“What’s that?”

“You can’t break my heart.” I look down at her and my steps stutter for a moment. I’m going to break her heart. That’s the only way this is going to end.

But I smile as best I can.

“I think that if any heart is going to get broken, it’s mine,” I say. She shifts back to being playful.