He glanced over the iron railing at the dining area below them, which looked like the patio of a Spanish villa in the romantic light. They were on the mezzanine, which was a narrow alcove at the top of a tiled staircase, with a dozen tables discreetly overlooking what was called the Don Quixote room. Cut flowers adorned the tables. The mosaic designs reminded him of Andalucía. The Columbia in Ybor City was a mammoth destination, but its subdivided dining rooms managed to feel intimate.

‘Do you like the piquillos?’ Caprice asked, dipping her little finger in Manchego cheese and licking it with her tongue.

‘Superb.’

‘I can’t believe you’ve never been here. It’s a Florida institution.’

‘The waiters know you,’ Cab said. ‘Is this where you take all your men?’

Caprice tilted her head, as if debating whether to be honest. ‘I do come here a lot. This is my favorite table.’

They were at the end of the mezzanine, largely invisible to others around them. ‘Just like a cat,’ he said. ‘Keeping your back to the wall.’

‘Actually, it’s a spy’s table,’ Caprice said. ‘I can look down and watch people, and they don’t know I’m doing it.’

‘You didn’t answer my question,’ Cab pointed out. ‘Do you take all your men here?’

Caprice brushed one of her hands back through her hair. ‘I mostly come here with lobbyists and donors to talk about policy. I don’t have much time for romance. Frankly, I need to be careful about who I’m seen with. Politics is a public business.’

‘And yet you’re here with me,’ Cab said.

‘I wouldn’t mind being photographed with you. I wouldn’t mind doing a lot of things with you.’ She took a crab croquette from one of the tapas plates in front of them. ‘Don’t misinterpret. I’m not in the market for a relationship, but I do like having someone who looks good in a tux when I have to go to events. And afterward, well …’

‘Friends with benefits?’

‘We don’t even have to be friends. I have plenty of friends. Some men would call that the perfect arrangement.’

‘Yes, they would.’

Caprice put a hand over his and rubbed his index finger in a provocative way. ‘Am I embarrassing you? Like I told you, I’m direct. Usually, you get what you want by taking it, rather than asking.’

‘Did I say I was complaining?’ Cab asked.

‘No, you didn’t. Good.’ She bit into the croquette and brushed Cuban cracker crumbs from her lips. ‘Tarla said you run like hell from real relationships.’

‘She’d say I run like hell from her, too,’ Cab said. ‘And she’s probably right. Having a rich, famous, beautiful mother who wants to control your life isn’t the unqualified blessing you might think.’

‘I’m sure.’

‘My girlfriend probably says I run from her, too,’ Cab added.