Page 20 of Little Dove

I shriek and jolt in alarm, which, of course, sets me off balance.

I grip the side of the cabinet desperately, but Lazaro crosses the room in only a few strides and scoops me off the cabinet before I can fall. His face is thunderous as he holds me against his chest.

“Are you insane?” he barks.

“I was fine until you yelled and scared me!” I bark back, glaring up at him. “Don’t you know not to scream at people who are on top of office furniture? Not everyone can see the tops of things with their feet still on the ground.”

“A smart woman like you should know better than to crawl on an old cabinet that’s probably been rusting and could give out under your weight,” he shoots back.

“Are you calling me fat?!” I yell in disbelief.

“What? No! Stop trying to twist my words. I’m saying that a damn mouse could be enough to make that rickety old thing collapse.”

That mollifies me, but only a little.

“Well, it’s fine, and I’m fine, so you have nothing to worry about. Now, put me down so I can keep looking around.”

He doesn’t do any such thing. Instead, he hitches me up higher in his arms, and I instinctively wrap my legs around him and grip his shoulders to feel steady.

His hands grip my ass, and I stiffen, but he ignores it.

“You and I need to have a talk about you putting yourself in dangerous situations, dolcezza,” he states silkily.

I do my best to ignore the tone of his voice, but damn, a girl can only do so much.

“I wasn’t in any danger,” I argue. “You’re the one who put me in danger by yelling. If you hadn’t, I’d have climbed back down on the chair and been fine.”

“And if the chair gave way or moved? You’d have fallen and hurt yourself.”

“Again with the fat comments,” I murmur.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters to himself, exasperated.

“Even if it had, I would have been fine. It’s not that much of a drop. The most I’d have done was jar something.” I purposely look down. “Not like if you drop me. From this height, I’m going to damn well break my neck.”

There’s a spark of realization in his expression before it’s replaced with determination.

“That will never happen,” he vows, and his grip on my ass tightens. “You don’t get to put yourself in danger, Amara. Ever. If you do, we’re going to have a problem, and I’m creative in my punishments.” His eyes flash, full of heated promises.

Heat pools in my belly.

Yeah, no. I’m not going there.

“See, you keep talking like we’re going to be something that we’re not,” I tell him dryly. “I never agreed to sleep with you, Lazaro, and that’s not going to change. I’m not interested in you or any other man.”

“If that’s true, why is your breathing labored and your body trembling right now?” he purrs. “Why aren’t you shoving me away? You know, when the body and mind don’t agree, I believe it’s sometimes better to listen to instinct.”

“Of course you do,” I mutter.

“Look, it’s not just you, okay? I don’t do relationships or casual sex with anyone.”

“Nothing about you and me will be casual, dolcezza.”

“Is the air down here starting to affect your head?” I demand, exasperated. “Or are you not able to hear what I’m saying?”

“I hear just fine,” he returns calmly. “But something you’re soon going to realize about me, Amara, is that when I see something I want, I go after it. I don’t give up easily. And you, dolcezza, the moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you, and I’ll do whatever I have to do to have you and keep you.”

Shocked, I stare at him.

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