She wraps the shawl around herself, playing with the soft silk folds.

She tilts her head to me. “You didn’t need to...”

“Oh, I had to. I want to make love to you with this tied around your hands.”

Her cheeks tinge with crimson and I know she’s remembering that night in Scotland when I had bound her wrists with the same red shawl she owns.

“Tonight?” I ask, with a raised brow.

She holds my face in her hands and plants a kiss on my cheek, rubbing the lipstick mark from my face.

“So, I want to tell you something,” she begins as soon as the waitress hands us our drinks.

Before I can reply, I hear my name being called.

“Damien...” I swivel to see my mother and Celia standing in front of us.

“Mother, Celia, what are you doing here?” I ask, standing up.

Celia doesn’t even look at Aaliya as she approaches me. “Hello Damien,” she gives me a broad smile and a hug. Aaliya’s eyes flash and her lips flatten as Celia presses herself into me. I release Celia and take a step back to greet my mother.

“Damien,” my mother gushes.

She leans forward giving me her cheek and I place a perfunctory kiss on it. No matter that she’s ignored me for most of my life, she will do anything to maintain appearances.

She places a hand on my arm. “We have a reservation here for dinner, but now that you’re here we might as well dine together. You wouldn’t mind that, would you?”

And before I can form a reply, she summons a server and gives him instructions to place two more settings on the table, completely ignoring the fact that Aaliya and I had plans of our own, which definitely did not include them. Celia takes a seat opposite me and I’m convinced she has someone spying on me. This is the first time I’ve taken Aaliya out and somehow Celia is here.

My foot taps irritably under the table and Aaliya puts her hand on my thigh, gently squeezing it. We exchange a glance and she gives me a warm smile and a reassuring nod. And this silent conversation that occurs so naturally between the two of us is one of the reasons I’m falling for this woman. She has filled my life with warmth, laughter and happiness. But I can’t dwell on any of that right now as my mother and Celia sit in front of us and stare down at Aaliya.

“Mother, you met Aaliya at the charity auction.”

“Did I?” My mother turns her nose up in the air. “I don’t remember.” She turns her face away, dismissing Aaliya. She allows the waiter to put a napkin on her lap and calls for some white wine for both Celia and herself. My fists clench at her cold behavior.