All of those subtle changes made tonight's date all the more important to him. This was his chance to share an important part of himself with Kayla, an opportunity to let her into his life in a way he'd kept private from other women. Tonight was about romance and letting her know that their relationship was about more than just great sex, which seemed to have become a big focal point between them, and very quickly.

Reaching their destination, he pulled into the circular drive that led to the valet parking. He stopped at the curb, and Kayla glanced from the sign in front of the establishment to him, her eyes wide with surprise and pleasure.

"We're at your restaurant," she said, and smiled.

He ran his finger down the slope of her nose, just because he wanted to touch her. "I told you I was going to take you someplace you've never been before."

A young man dressed in a black uniform opened Kayla's door and helped her out of the SUV, while Jack slid out of the driver's side to let his employee take the vehicle to his private parking spot. He retrieved the dessert box from the back seat, met up with Kayla on the sidewalk, and entwined her fingers in his as they walked to the main entrance.

"I've always wanted to come here," she admitted as she took in the lush plants and tropical garden surrounding them, complete with a small rock waterfall. "But I never had a reason to come to such a fancy restaurant."

Jack was glad that no one else had ever brought her to Tremaine's Downtown before. He hoped it would make the experience more special, for both of them. "Now you have every reason. Me."

Once inside, they were greeted by the hostess, then Jack led Kayla to the back of the restaurant and through the kitchen, where he let his chef know to start the dinner he had planned. He gave her a quick tour of the place and introduced her to Rich before leading her upstairs to a private banquet room with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the harbor on one side, and the city skyline on the other.

Kayla stopped at one of the windows, a soft sigh of awe and contentment escaping her. "The view up here is absolutely spectacular."

He came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "And it's all ours for the night."

She turned around and placed a hand on his chest, her expression teasing as she plucked at one of the buttons on his dress shirt. "I guess it pays to have a direct connection to the owner, doesn't it?"

He laughed, and when she would have pulled her hand away he stopped her, lifted her fingers to his lips, and kissed the warm, soft tips. "The owner is an easygoing guy who can be easily swayed by a beautiful woman."

She gave a sassy toss of her hair and added her own witty innuendo to the playful conversation. "Yes, well, I'll try not to take advantage of the owner's generosity."

"For the record, you can take advantage of me anytime you'd like." He leaned in close and lightly touched his lips to hers, which was all he was going to allow for tonight. Sweet, chaste kisses, nothing more.

He strolled over to the table set up for two and withdrew the bottle of champagne chilling in the silver ice bucket. Uncapping the top, he popped the cork and poured them each a glass of the bubbly liquid.

He handed her one of the crystal flutes. "Here's to a memorable evening."

"It already is," she said, and clinked the tip of her glass to his before taking a drink.

Music drifted up from the piano in the bar downstairs, a soft, melodious strain that was perfect for a slow dance. And since they were alone, at least for another ten minutes, he hated to let such a prime opportunity to hold her in his arms go to waste.

He set his champagne on the table then held out his hand for her to take. "Dance with me."

She shifted on her heels, suddenly appearing uncertain. "I'm not very good at dancing."

He wasn't going to let her out of this so easy, not when it could bring them closer, and not just physically. Sticking with his decision to make tonight romantic and keep sex out of the equation, he wanted to show her just how compatible they were outside the bedroom. And there was a certain element of trust and intimacy inherent in slow dancing. He wanted to experience that with her.

"Says who?" he asked.

"Says me." She took another gulp of her champagne. "I haven't really had much practice at it."

"It's quite easy, actually, and relatively painless," he said with gentle humor as he set her glass on the table next to his, then stepped closer to pull her into his embrace.

He was gratified when she came willingly.

"I hold you in my arms like this," he said, clasping one of her slender hands in his and sliding his other around to rest at the base of her spine. "Now put your other hand around my neck, relax against my body, and let me do all the work. Think you can handle that?"

She looked up into his eyes. "Are you going to give me a choice?" she asked wryly.

He chuckled. "No. Not really."

He moved in time with the slow music and eased her closer, until they were aligned from chest to thighs and she was in sync with his every step. He was surrounded by the warmth and softness of her body and the arousing scent of her perfume, and he couldn't imagine another place he'd rather be at the moment than right here with Kayla.

He dipped his head and gently slid his cheek to hers. "Nice, huh?"

"Umm, very nice." Tentatively, she laid her head on his shoulder and sighed, and her warm breath tickled his neck.

Her actions held nuances of the trust and intimacy he'd hoped for, but he knew this was just the beginning. He lazily stroked his hand up and down her back, wondering when the last time was that someone had just held her and made her feel cherished.

With the way she was snuggled up against him, all lush and warm and soft, it was inevitable that his body get turned on. And because that wasn't his intent tonight, he knew he had to end the embrace now, before that part of his anatomy passed the point of no return.

With a great amount of reluctance he eased to a stop and let her go, just as their waiter arrived with the first and second courses to their meal. They sat down at their table and were served bowls of lobster bisque, along with a platter of hors d'oeuvres that consisted of smoked salmon, paté, lobster medallions and Caspian Sea caviar.

Once the server was gone and they were alone again Kayla took a taste of her soup and moaned blissfully.

Jack spread a dollop of caviar on a cracker and grinned. "I take it you like the bisque."

She nodded her approval. "It's so incredibly smooth and creamy. I think this could become as addictive as my desserts."

"Give the smoked salmon and pâté a try," he said, and she helped herself to both, then added a few of the lobster medallions for good measure.

He watched Kayla savor her meal, and decided he liked being with a woman who actually ate the food on her plate, instead of pushing it around to make it look like she'd taken a few bites because she was worried about her figure. Fine cuisine was a big part of Jack's life, and it was nice to find a woman who shared that passion.

"This place is so elegant, and the food is outstanding," Kayla complimented as she waved her fork over the bisque and hors d'oeuvres. "You never did say how you got into the restaurant business. Do you mind me asking?"

"Not at all." This was the opening he'd been waiting for, an ideal segue for him to share more intimate details about himself and his past and the man he'd become. "Do you remember what this restaurant was before it became Tremaine's Downtown?"

She thought for a moment on that as she took a drink of her champagne. "That was such a long time ago. I believe it was a casual kind of restaurant, wasn't it?"

"It was six years ago, and back then the place was called Bluebeard's."

Her eyes lit up in recollection. "That's right. Now I remember. It was a bar and grill, wasn't it?"

"Yes," he said, and absently swirled the sparkling liquid in his flute before finishing it off. "When I was seventeen, I was hired on as the dishwasher, and it was the perfect part-time job while I finished school then went to college. Over the years I worked my way up to being a waiter, then a bartender, and finally, the manager of the restaurant."

"Very impressive," she said.

He shrugged off her compliment, because the ambition to make something of himself had driven him hard from a very young age. He'd always been looking ahead at a better raise, that next promotion, and anything else that would take him where he wanted to go-and that place was financial security. The kind he'd grown up without.

"Jimmy was the owner who initially hired me," he said, back to his story. "And when he died a few years later his wife, Molly, took over the restaurant, which was a huge mistake since she didn't have much interest in Bluebeard's at all. She held on to the place because it provided a small extra cash flow for her, but eventually she sucked the restaurant dry financially. One day the employees came in for work and Molly announced that Bluebeard's was on the verge of bankruptcy and she was shutting the place down."

Kayla winced, obviously understanding the ramifications of that. "Dare I ask what happened?"

"The story ends happily," he assured her.

He paused as their waiter returned to clear off their plates and serve them their main entrée of chateaubriand, a roasted tenderloin of beef accompanied by an array of fresh steamed vegetables topped with béarnaise sauce.

He cut into the beef and found it tender and perfectly prepared. "Anyway, I saw this as the ideal opportunity to finally open a restaurant of my own, which I was considering anyway. I made an offer on the place, and since it was so run-down and Molly was so anxious to unload the restaurant, we came to a quick, mutually acceptable price and the establishment became mine.