Page 52 of Forbidden Boss (Manhattan Billionaires)

I said the first thing that came to mind, running my hands over the lapels of my suit dress. “We match.”

His gaze traveled down the length of my body and back up again. It felt like a physical touch. When he swept his gaze over the curve of my hips, I remembered what it felt like to have his hands grab me there and pin me to the wall. When his eyes lingered on my chest, I thought about the feel of his fingers sinking into my flesh. He made me feel naked and exposed, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

“You wear clothing like it’s a weapon,” he finally said, and I blinked. His steps closed the distance between us until I had to crane my head up to keep meeting his gaze. “I find myself wondering if you’re planning on using it against me.”

I arched a brow. “That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think? Maybe I dress for myself.”

Rome’s finger traced the white piping on my lapel, across my chest, and down. I felt the barest brush of his touch against my breast and fought to keep my breathing steady.

Something had changed between us, and the ground was unsteady beneath my feet. We’d flown apart after the kiss and decided it was a mistake, but now…

“Do you?”

I blinked. “Do I what?”

“Do you dress for yourself?”

I took a small step back. Anything to put a bit more space between us. “Of course.”

He hummed. “I think there’s more to it than that. You always seem to know exactly the right balance to strike no matter where we go.”

It surprised me that he could read me so easily. Most people—men especially—thought my interest in fashion and beauty to be frivolous. It was girly. It was silly. But of all people, Rome saw what was beneath the surface. I liked that about him. I liked that he didn’t dismiss me just because I liked to wear vampy lipstick.

But liking him and kissing him again were two different issues entirely. I had to work for the man for the foreseeable future. I didn’t want to get involved with him.

I clasped my hands in front of me, arching a brow. “I’m guessing this outfit is a winner?”

He grinned. “You think it isn’t? Garcia’s going to take one look at you and call you his new muse.”

I flushed, unable to keep the smile from my face. “We’ll see.”

Rome’s hand slipped down my arm to my elbow, the touch sending heat skittering through my veins. He guided me out the door, nodding to Clara before heading for the elevators. Once inside, he let go of my arm, and I could breathe.

“Have you always liked clothing?” He watched me from where he leaned against the wall of the elevator. We traveled up toward the roof, a short ride up to the very top of the building.

The doors opened as I nodded. “Mostly, yes, but my interest really started in my late teens.” I paused, my throat suddenly tight.

Rome stopped at the exterior door leading to the roof. “What is it?”

I looked up to see his brows drawn, his gaze intent. There he went again, seeing me. The real me. I shook my head. “We’re going to be late.”

He leaned against the metal door and crossed his arms. “Something’s on your mind. Tell me.”

“Ordering me around isn’t going to work, Rome.”

He grinned at me. “But you used my first name, so you must be warming up to me.”

“Marginally.”

He laughed, and the sound made my own lips twitch. When he quieted down, his gaze was warm. “Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“It’s nothing, really.” I shook my head. “It’s just old memories. They’re hard to explain.”

“Try me.”

“Why do you care?”

“We need to pretend to be a real couple for the entire weekend. Maybe I think knowing a bit about the real you will help.”

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