Sparkling champagne slowly filled my glass to the very rim of the flute.

I looked up at the waiter, ready to snap at him. What did he expect me to do? Bring my lips to the glass and slurp up the expensive bubbly? There was no way to lift the crystal in a genteel fashion with the liquid so close to overflowing. My eyes met the waiter’s, and I paused. Normally, when something displeases me, I don’t hesitate to let my feelings be known. But the waiter in question was so handsome in his tux, his boyish face clean-shaven, his blue eyes carefully appraising me. For a moment, I held my tongue.

“I’m so sorry, Miss,” he said quickly. I knew that type of apology. His tone wasn’t sorry. His tone was… daring. “I wasn’t looking at the glass. I was… I was looking... Read More