Page 35 of Sinful Temptations

“Nobody. No. It’s just. Ummm, what about a girlfriend? Are you attached to anyone?”

“No. Where’s this coming from? I told you, women barely look at me.”

I wanted to melt at his honesty, and with relief. “I’m sorry.” Oh, God. Now I had to tell him why I was asking.

‘Oh, I’m just wondering ’cause I slept with a married man last night.’

Faaark.

I placed my hand on his chest, biding my time, feeling the warmth of his flesh, hoping with all hope that I didn’t scare him off. “A friend of mine had sex with a guy who she barely knew, and it turned out he was married. She’s a mess over it. And rightly so. And well, anyway, it made me realize that I barely know you and well, I too would die if?—”

He placed his finger to my lips, just like Pierre had done, only this was much more sensual. “No, Daisy, I’m not married. I’m not in a relationship. I haven’t had sex all year. Is that what you want to hear?”

I kissed his finger, and he pulled it back. “Yes, thank you. I’m sorry it’s just?—”

He leaned in, and my breath caught as his lips touchedmine. My knees melted and my head swooned. My relief just about had me crumbling to the floor. His fingers glided around my neck, sending shivers up my scalp.

He smelled amazing—all man, all sexuality.

My insides sizzled, and my tongue explored. Our bodies moved together in a way that confirmed we’d crossed some invisible line.

He pulled back all too soon, and my heart thudded at the intensity in his eyes.

Air hissed through his lips, and he rubbed his palm over the zipper of his jeans, obviously trying to subdue the beast awakening inside his pants.

Holy hotness.Our kiss did that.

It took all my might not to jump into his arms and beg him to take me to the stables.

“So, will you come to me next month?”

Hell, yes I will. I’ll even run here if I have to.I reached up and cupped his cheek, feeling his freshly shaved skin. “Yes.”

“I’ll be ready.” He kissed me on the lips, just a quick peck, then he turned and strode away. I watched his sexy butt right to the end of the path.

It took all my might not to chase after him.

ChapterEight

Approaching Monaco had me stressing like a hostel barmaid on Saint Paddy’s night.

Maybe Roman sensed my anxiety because he became Mr. Chatty. Last time we left Monaco, I was in a real downer of a mood. Maybe he was worried I’d hit that funk again.

Roman chatted about all sorts of random topics as we cruised the long stretch of highway between Lyon and Monte Carlo. He told me about his mamma’s weird obsession with snow globes. Apparently, she had nearly two hundred snow globes from all over the world even though she’d never left Italy. Her friends bought them for her when they traveled. Roman’s expression had grown dark when he’d mentioned that. But he bounced right back to smiling when he talked about his nieces and nephews.

It must have been wonderful to have an uncle like him.

I’d never had that pleasure. I didn’t even know if my parents had siblings. If they did, they never spoke of them. They never spoke about their folks either.

I’d never thought of that as weird until I’d met William and attended his grandmother’s eightieth birthday. Over ahundred of his direct descendants and their partners had gathered in a park. It had been impossible to remember all their names, let alone understand where they stood in the family tree.

In comparison, my family tree was barely an undernourished sapling.

It was nice hearing Roman’s stories, and for a change he didn’t grill me with his twenty questions. We were passing the turnoff for Nice when he turned to me, all serious. “Are you going to the casino tonight to see that guy, Oscar?”

“Hell no.” Shit! I hadn’t meant for my response to be so dramatic.

His eyebrows launched upward. “No to the casino, or no to Oscar?”

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