I stared at the wine being poured into crystal glasses around the table, my throat suddenly dry. When the server approached me with the bottle, I quickly placed my hand over my glass.
"Apple juice for me, please," I requested softly.
Adrian's gaze shifted to me, one eyebrow raised slightly. "Not a wine drinker, Miss Beaumont?"
"I prefer to keep my wits about me," I replied, meeting his eyes directly.
Something flashed across his face—amusement, perhaps—before he turned his attention to the server preparing to ladle soup into our bowls. I needed to be careful tonight. Being in Adrian's presence was intoxicating enough without adding alcohol to the mix.
The first course arrived—a delicate butternut squash soup garnished with toasted pumpkin seeds and a swirl of cream. The rich aroma made my mouth water, reminding me I hadn't eaten since lunch.
"This is amazing," I murmured after the first spoonful, forgetting my nervousness for a moment.
