This was one of the coolest decorating themes she’d ever seen.
And the Hidden Hills Resort didn’t allow its members to sit on padded metal conference chairs. No, every chair was draped in the same fabric as the table.
A female server intercepted them as they tried to cut through the tables. “One of the staff members with the clipboard will have your seat assignments.”
“I’d forgotten about that. Thank you.”
Assigned seating felt a little junior high-ish. Were the attendees deemed more important seated at a better table with other bigwigs? Maybe it was the champagne, but Amery could give a shit where she and Ronin ended up. In her mind he remained the most interesting person in the room—regardless of how many people filled the space.
After they were properly seated, she snuck a look at him and bit back a feminine sigh.
Ronin’s mouth brushed her ear. “What’s the smirk for?”
“Just thinking about how sexy you look in that suit. But as nice as the wrapper is, it’s the body beneath that gets me all hot and bothered.”
“You always so flirty and flattering when you drink champagne?”
She laughed softly. “I’m serious.”
“I know.” He placed a kiss below her ear. “Which is why I’ll make sure the champagne keeps flowing.”
“Maybe that’s not the best idea. I do all sorts of crazy things when I’m tipsy.”
“If this shindig gets dull, I have ideas on how we can liven things up.” Ronin’s hand slid up her leg.
“Ronin. Behave.”
“No.” His teeth enclosed her earlobe and he tugged. “And don’t pretend you want me to be the gentleman in the suit. You prefer the master in the gi.”
To anyone else it would appear that she and Ronin were having a private conversation. But when he whispered against her skin in that rough voice, she was done in. Add in the erotic way his thumb stroked the inside of her thigh, the continual pass of his warm lips beneath her ear . . . Amery wanted to grab him by his fancy tie, drag him into the coat check room, and f**k him stupid.
“I like that purring sound you just made,” he murmured against her throat. “Remember earlier when you said you’d give me anything I wanted?”
“No.”
“That’s okay because I do. But I’ll warn you, baby, I will push your boundaries tonight.”
Amery managed to stop the spinning in her head long enough to place her hand on his cheek, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Should I be scared?”
Ronin just bestowed that “Hallelujah Chorus” grin. “Probably. But I promise I won’t do a thing you don’t like.”
The table jiggled and they both looked up.
Amery couldn’t help her shock. Tyler and Chantal were seated at their table. Out of nine hundred and ninety-eight other possibilities for dinner companions, they ended up with these two?
Tyler offered a smarmy grin. “Well, isn’t this a coincidence?”
Chantal didn’t seem any happier than Amery about the seating arrangements. But she managed a cool “Hello.”
Three other couples joined them. The foursome barely acknowledged anyone outside their group. The other couple, an elegant pair in their early sixties, were sniping at each other and then fell into glaring silence as they knocked back glass after glass of champagne.
“Good thing we like each other’s company,” Ronin said.
“No kidding.”
The waiters kept the bubbly flowing in addition to bringing bottles of wine to the table.
Amery picked up the linen card—embossed in the exact same color of the tablecloth—that announced the evening’s five-course menu:
Butternut squash soup with chive oil and radish seedlings
Pan-fried trout croquettes, breaded with blue corn flour and topped with tomatillo relish
Roasted beet carpaccio with seared goat cheese and mâche greens
Grilled filet of beef with caramelized shallot/red wine reduction, truffle-infused potato rösti, white asparagus, and morel mushrooms
Golden Colorado dessert, ripe Colorado peaches soaked in Colorado’s gold-medal-winning red wine, topped with yogurt sweetened with honey
This menu was a little different than Applebee’s.
Ronin leaned closer. “Problem?”
“Not exactly sure what some of the ingredients are in these dishes.”
“Me either. I’m just glad one of the courses isn’t sushi.”
After the soup course was delivered to everyone in the room, a man stepped up to the raised dais and began to speak.
She tuned him out and talked to Ronin. “So, the guy earlier that monopolized your time? What did he want?”
“To convince me to teach a private kickboxing class for new Bronco recruits.”
“What’d you say?”
Ronin looked affronted. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I am not a kickboxing instructor.”
“Saying no should’ve taken, like, two seconds. Why’d he keep you so long?”
“He mistakenly assumed everyone has a price and all he needed to do was charm me, or throw more money at me. Or threaten me and I’d fall in line.”
Her eyes widened. “He threatened you? Was he just an idiot or did he have a death wish? Did you demonstrate jujitsu pressure points so he understands why ninjas like you don’t teach kickboxing?”
“I said something like that, but more diplomatically.”