His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 61

Attached was another note.

My driver will pick you up at 7. Wear this. And don’t be late.

He didn’t even sign it. But I didn’t need to see his name.

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By 6:58 p.m., I was standing at the front of the house, dressed to kill and nervous for no reason I could understand.

The sleek black car pulled up right on time. The driver, immaculately dressed, opened the door for me without a word. The moment I stepped inside, soft music played, and the city lights flickered past the tinted windows.

When we stopped, I stepped out and blinked in disbelief.

Liam had booked out an entire rooftop restaurant. Strings of warm lights danced above, casting everything in a soft glow. There were no other guests, just us. A live band played soft jazz in the corner. A chilled bottle of wine waited on the table. And Liam stood at the far end of the space, dressed in a black–on–black suit that hugged him in all the right ways.

I forgot how to breathe.

He turned, saw me, and everything in his expression softened.

“You look… breathtaking,” he said, meeting me halfway.

“You did all this?”

He took my hand, kissing my knuckles. “Every second of today, I wanted to make up for what we lost. I know I mess up. I know I’m a lot. But I meant it when I said I wanted more with you. So tonight, this is just the beginning.”

We dined under the stars. Laughed over wine. Shared dessert like a scene straight out of a cheesy romance movie. The band played our song. Yes, somehow he remembered the off–key mess I sang in the car, and asked us to dance.

So we did. Right there. Slow. Close. His breath against my cheek. His hand at my waist. My

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Chapter 61

fingers curled into the fabric of his suit.

And when the night ended, he didn’t ask.

He just offered his hand.

And I took it.

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Back at the house, I had a plan of my own.

As soon as we stepped inside, I turned to him and smiled innocently. “I was thinking we could cool off.”

His brows rose. “Cool off?”

“In the pool. You did plan a whole date. It’s only fair if I say thank you properly.”

His

eyes

darkened with interest. “You’ll meet me there?”

“Mmhmm. Give me a few minutes.”

He walked off toward the pool, and I rushed to the bedroom, pulling out the black lace lingerie we’d bought during our shopping spree. The one he’d pointed to with that wicked smirk.

I slipped into it, heart thudding. It hugged every inch of me, scandalous and elegant all at once. When I walked into the pool area, Liam was taking a sip from a bottle of water, shirtless, glistening in the low lights.

He saw me and choked.

His eyes shot wide open, lips parting like he couldn’t breathe. “God, Emily…you trying to kill me or what?”

I stopped at the edge of the water, smirking. “You said I’d model it for you tonight. Consider this… gratitude.”

He set the bottle down slowly, like he needed both hands to worship the sight of me.

“Come here,” he said, voice rough.

I walked to him, letting the tension simmer between us. He pulled me close, hands gripping

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my waist, then backed us slowly into the pool.

Water hugged our bodies. Skin on skin. Heat and chill clashing.

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