Page 33 of Heartless Vows

I clear my throat and shift in my seat.

Which is a mistake. His fingertips brush along the inside of my bare thigh. My heart leaps into my throat and lust pools low in my belly, but when I try to lift our joined hands away from my lap, he growls and shifts his fingertips higher up my leg.

I freeze.

Silence presses down on my head. Whatever special soundproofing he must have had installed works a little too well. It blocks out the sounds of the city, even the yelling cab drivers and honking horns.

He pulls into a small parking garage and continues down to a lower level. I try not to grind my teeth when a quick calculation leads me to believe the physician’s office was less than twenty minutes away.

I don’t understand this man. At all.

My stomach rumbles. A blush creeps up my chest and heats my ears. He glances at me before pulling into a spot and putting the car in park.

I decide it’s annoying how easily he controls the car with only one hand, even as my libido demands he’s the most attractive and capable man I’ve ever seen.

He squeezes my hand and sneaks his pinky higher up my thigh. An embarrassing squeak escapes my throat and I use both hands—and all my upper body strength—to push him away from my sex.

My damp panties mock me.

When he angles his shoulders as much as he can in the cramped space and pins me in place with his intense stare, I expect him to pull me to him for a kiss, but he reaches across the center console and cups my face.

The world shifts as his expression softens, and without a word, he steals chunks of my idiotic heart.

I stare in mute shock as he pulls away, extracting his hand from mine, and exits the car. When he opens my door but doesn’t offer me his hand, I look up at him.

“Bring both sets of papers. We’ll look through them together.”

I nod and slip them into my bag before accepting his help to exit the car.

When he settles his arm over my shoulders and weaves his fingers through mine, a sense of belonging nearly knocks me off my feet, but with his massive frame pressed against mine, there’s nowhere for me to fall. I fill my lungs and savor the scent of his cologne with hints of his natural musk woven within.

He leads me into an elevator. His eyes constantly scan our surroundings, reminding me we’re alone in public together for the first time. Even when the elevator doors close and offer a blurred reflection of us, he stays alert, checking corners for surveillance cameras and pulling me close.

He’s so tall and muscular compared to my petite frame. It’s a wonder the elevator can even handle his weight. He’s pure muscle. It’s intimidating.

He leads me out of the elevator before I’m ready. Discombobulated, I speak before my brain catches up.

“This isn’t a lawyer’s office.”

God, I could smack my stupid mouth.

He grunts and asks for a quiet table for two. The hostess immediately gestures for us to follow and leads us through the restaurant to a table in the corner. He places me in the corner and takes the chair next to mine, boxing me in. After asking what drink I want, he orders a few appetizers before allowing the waitress to sashay away.

Jealousy swarms behind my sternum as she exaggerates the swing of her hips for Giorgio as she departs, but when I turn to him, he’s staring at me. My heart lurches when he quirks a brow.

I tell myself I’m allowed to act a bit unhinged after the drama of the last day and a half. Hell, I sucked his cock during my first ever sexual altercation. It’s understandable I’m attached.

He pushes my menu toward me. I duck my head and stare at the simple, elegant list but struggle to make sense of the words.

When he asks what I want, I force myself to focus and choose what sounds easiest to digest—since my stomach seems set on lurching every other second—and my entire nervous system seems stuck in an overactive state.

As the appetizers arrive, he drapes his arm over the back of my chair in response to the waitress’ flirting and dismisses her before turning to me.

“Do you have any food allergies? Anything you hate?”

I shake my head and eye him skeptically as he reaches for a roll. When he holds a piece to my lips, I consider my options before accepting it.

The waitress glares at me as she leaves. Giorgio smirks.

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