Page 81 of Sinful Temptations

“Sounds like the best meal in all of Europe.”

Wow, he was tall. A giant.

He ran his tongue over his cherry popsicle lips.

I blinked up at him and frowned.

Did Roman kiss me?

We did! We kissed each other.

But would he remember it in the morning?

When he gazed down at me, the look in his eyes told me that he absolutely would.

He stepped closer.Oh God, this is it.He was drawing me in like a magnet—a smoking hot magnet. “Daisy.”

“Uh-huh.” Words had no hope of forming. Roman was going to kiss me again. Butterflies in my stomach danced and spun.

“Did you have fun?”

“Huh?” I blinked up at him.

“Did you have fun?” He exaggerated the words like he was talking through inch-thick glass.

“Oh.” I wanted to slap myself. Why, oh why did I expect something more? I forced the fog from my brain and nodded. “I did.”

“Good.” He squeezed my hand. “I told you, you would.”

We grabbed our bikes and pushed rather than rode them along the path. And just like any normal friends would do, we chatted about all sorts of stuff, our primary focus being food. It was like it was the most normal thing in the world to do.

Except it wasn’t normal.

Nothing was normal anymore. Roman had kissed me.

But I wanted more. So much more and it was all wrong.

I felt like a bloody fool. Suddenly I had absolute clarity like I was looking at my surroundings with all my senses working at two hundred percent.

He was an incredibly handsome, single man in the prime of his life. I was an older unattractive woman with no assets, no aspirations, and soon I’d have no job and no home.

Oh, God.

Even though I already knew it was coming, the enormity of that concept slammed into me like a wrecking ball. Everything in my life was about to make a shift of seismic proportions, and there was not a single thing I could do about it.

Roman smiled at me and that wrecking ball slammed through me again.

He was the only thing that was good and right and whole in my life.

And after that kiss, I wasn’t sure I could live without him.

Chapter Seventeen

After that incredible moment in Amsterdam, my mind was mush. The end of the tour came around so quickly that I barely registered until I was back in my apartment in London, all alone.

The days between tours dragged on, and although I made an effort to get out of my house and see more, my heart wasn’t in it. And I spent nearly every waking minute revisiting our kiss in the park.

Roman never mentioned it afterward. Not that evening when we took our group through Amsterdam’s red-light district. Not the following day in Belgium, and not when we said goodbye at our London office with promises to see each other again in eleven days.

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