is where a kiss like the one we shared in my bedroom leads.”
“Oh.”
“I’m going to kiss you again.”
“I don’t think that’s a great idea.”
“Perhaps not, but in just an hour we will be interviewed as a couple, and it’s imperative we have no awkwardness between us.” He took another step toward her and she could feel his heat, smell the scent of him. Clean skin, soap. Man.
She took a step toward him. His gaze dropped to her mouth and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth.
He reached out and put his thumb on her lip. She raised her focus, her eyes clashing with his. “I find I envy your lip,” he said.
He couldn’t possibly mean … She touched her tongue to the tip of his thumb, tasting salt, tasting Dante. Then she took a breath and a chance, and bit him gently. He closed his eyes, a rumble of satisfaction vibrating through his chest.
Emboldened, she repeated the action, biting harder this time.
He moved quickly, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her up against his hard body. She pushed up onto her toes and kissed him. It felt so familiar and so foreign at the same time. So wickedly exciting.
He thrust his tongue between her lips and she reciprocated, the slide and friction sending a shot of heat through her veins. Making her breasts ache to be touched, making her feel hollow.
He put both hands on her hips and gripped her tightly, pulling her against him, letting her feel the hard jut of his arousal against her stomach.
He backed her against the desk and she adjusted so that the edge was just under her butt, supporting her weight. He moved in closer to her, parting her thighs slightly, settling between them.
He pressed his lips to her jaw, her neck, her collarbone.
She never wanted it to stop. She wanted more. And she didn’t want to have to look him in the face when it was over and see the same regret she’d seen last night.
The kissing was safe. The kissing was good. She wanted more of that.
But it ended, and when he pulled away, it wasn’t horror or regret she saw on his face. It was worse. It was nothing. Nothing but a smooth, beautiful, unreadable mask. Like he hadn’t just pushed her to a point she’d never reached before. Like he hadn’t introduced her to a whole new side of attraction.
Like the world hadn’t just tilted on its axis. Her world certainly had.
“That, I think, proves my point,” he said.
She wanted to hit him. Kick him in the shins. Sing a show tune. Something that would get him to react. Because his coolness, his totally unruffled state, was killing her.
“That we have chemistry? Yeah, thanks. I’m really glad I got to be a part of the experiment.” She touched her lips. They were hot. And swollen. Overly sensitive just like the rest of her body.
Dante moved slightly and she caught a glimpse of gold shimmer on his suit jacket with the movement.
She frowned. “Could you move to the light here?” She indicated the shaft of sun coming through the window.
He complied, and the order did earn her a strange look, which, all things considered, she would take and feel somewhat satisfied with.
The light hit his front and a giggle climbed her throat, bursting from her lips. “Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry!”
“What?”
“Your suit.”
He looked down at the spray of golden glitter that was pressed against the entire front of his suit in a little Paige-shaped pattern.
He uttered a curse and brushed his hand over his jacket. Paige tried to hold in her laughter, and succeeded in snorting.
He gave her a dirty look.
“I’m sorry! Oh, brushing it like that isn’t going to help. Glitter is the cold sore of the craft world. It spreads easily and it’s hard to get rid of.”
“Yes,” he bit out, “thank you. I actually figured out the reference without it being explained.”
“You were the one who pulled me all up against you. I was working, as we established, and that involves …”
“It’s fine, Paige,” he said, his annoyance, probably with the whole situation, coming through now.
“I am sorry. Because that suit must have cost …”
“A lot,” he ground out, “but I have a lot so it’s not a big deal.”
Except that he was meticulous with his things to a degree she couldn’t wrap her mind around, so she knew on some level it was a big deal.
“Well, then …”
“I have some things to finish up and then I’ll meet you at the day care to pick Ana up.”
Dante had been forced to walk through the office advertising intimate contact with his own personal glitter fairy. Which, he imagined, he should be somewhat grateful for or at the very least, okay with.
She was, after all, supposed to be his fiancée, and that meant they were expected to touch. To kiss. To have interludes in her office during the workday.
He should be fine with it, but he wasn’t, and it had nothing to do with the possible ruination of his suit and everything to do with the flashing sign on his chest that was advertising his loss of control.
There were only a few minutes left until their interview. He stepped out of a cold shower and into his bedroom. He dressed quickly, ignoring the ache in his body that reminded him that no amount of icy-cold shower could steal the desire he had for her.
He gritted his teeth and turned sharply, hitting the solid wood bedpost with his open palm. The pain, he hoped, would remind him to keep himself under control. A reminder that passion had its price. That any loss of control had a cost.
Nothing was free. Nothing was without consequence.
The sting in his palm reminded him, for a moment, of her teeth grazing over his thumb. Of the reaction that faint pain had had on his body.
He closed his eyes and hit the bedpost again, the hard wood pushing past flesh and making contact with the bone in his wrist. He lowered his hand and shook it.
There was a timid knock on his door. “Come in.”
“Oh, hi. I was wondering if you were ready?” Paige opened the door wide to reveal her and Ana. They were both dressed in pink. Paige in a bright, silk dress and Ana in pale pink one, her chubby legs swinging back and forth.
“I am now,” he said, running his stinging hand over his hair.
“Good, she’s almost here.” Paige turned and flitted out of the room and he followed her. Paige had adjusted Ana so
