Page 112 of Assassin's Obsession

I only know what it is because our dental clinic has one in the waiting room and I asked.

"A conservatory."

"And indoor garden," I breathe.

I chaperoned a school trip for my sister to The New York Botanical Garden. Their conservatory is bigger, but not any more impressive.

There are plants and flowers everywhere, and the sound of rushing water hits my ears. Mom is going to love this place.

Angelo pulls me further along the path. "I had this area designed just for us."

Coming around some large potted tropical trees, we step into a grotto surrounding a small pool fed by a freaking waterfall.

"It's a hot tub," he tells me. "With a special feature just for you."

"Hot water to soak in is pretty great all on its own. You don't know how much I want to be able to just soak after a night of dancing." The bathtub in our apartment is too short to stretch out my legs, even when I'm sitting up.

"We're going to do more than soak,amate." Angelo's sensual growl sends a shudder through me.

"We didn't bring swimsuits." And right about now, I'm really regretting that oversight.

"We don't need them." Angelo peels his shirt off, folds it and puts it on a bench tucked behind some foliage.

He does something and a small door opens revealing a cabinet with a black hard plastic case inside. Opening it, he slides the knife sheath from his shoulder into one compartment and follows that with the rest of his weapons.

Watching him take off all of the guns and knives he wears on a regular basis shouldn't turn me on, should it?

The wetness soaking my panties right now is an irrefutable fact though. Knowing he's alwaysthatready to do his thing sends a pulse of arousal right to my core.

"What if someone comes in?" I have no desire to put on a show for anyone but Angelo.

Which begs the question: can I keep dancing at Pitiful Princess?

"I locked the door with the remote on my phone. Only yours and my thumbprints will open it when we're in here alone." He unzips his pants and shoves them down his muscular, hairy legs.

Everything about this man is so darn sexy.

"What about the windows?" I wave toward the glass mostly obscured by plants.

Mostly being the operative word.

"It turns opaque at night, or whenever it's programmed to."

It's definitely dark outside. "So no one can see through it?" I ask, just to be sure.

"No one. It's a matter of safety too." He finishes putting his clothes in a neat pile on the bench, leaving his body gloriously naked. "All of the window glass in the house is the highest level of bullet resistance, but we don't take chances."

"Huh? Oh. That's great." My eyes are glued on the rippling muscles of his torso.

The men who dance on ladies night at the club would kill for Angelo's muscle definition. Never mind the size of his dick.Which is drool worthy hard right now. Although I'm not sure that thing ever goes down.

"Are you always hard?" As much as I want to tear my own clothes off and get straight to nakey-times, I force myself to go slow, toeing off my shoes first.

He takes them from me and puts them on the rack under the bench next to his. "When I am around you, yes."

"Seriously?" I pause in the act of removing my socks. "Even at dinner?"

"Not like this." He waves his hand at his erection. "But yes, I'm always at least semi-erect when you're around."

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