Page 8 of Dirty Little Sins

Now it was time to greet the day head on, with my first stop being the kitchen. I needed to know exactly what I had to work with so I could determine what I would need to order to pull tonight's rabbit out of my hat.

A glance at the clock showed it had only taken me thirty minutes to get ready, which normally gave me more of a head start than I had planned on. But the sudden change in plans now meant I was running woefully behind.

I grabbed my bag and shoved my tablet and phone into it and made a hasty beeline for the suite door. I didn't stop for coffee or breakfast. I could either rectify the lack of caffeine on my way to the restaurant or I'd ask Julie to get me some. There were many perks to having an assistant, but having someone on standby to feed my caffeine addiction was definitely one of the best.

My phone rang just as I started to open the door and rather than stop to answer it and delay my progress further, I decided to keep going and fish for it at the same time.

And because of that stupid decision, the rest of my day got fucked and not in a good way.

As my hand wrapped around my phone, I rushed into the hallway and crashed into a solid wall standing right in front of it.

"What the fuck?”

The word slipped out of my mouth before it could be stopped and even though I slapped my hand across my lips, it was too late. My big decision to get a handle on my penchant for cussing while I was here was not off to a good start.

Of course to make things worse, my bag slipped from my shoulders and crashed to the ground, making all of its contents go flying. I also lost my grip on the still ringing phone and with a sudden twist to look down, I lost my balance too.

However, before I could land flat on my face like this kind of an incident required, a strong pair of hands grabbed my arms and caught me before I hit the floor.

They also righted me so that I was staring straight at a broad chest covered by a workout top that left little to the imagination. Scratch that. My imagination had plenty of room to interpret those muscles and the glisten of sweat covering them.

My gaze had just traveled to his bulging biceps covered by taut tanned skin when he cleared his throat, catching my attention.

"Crap." I winced.

Okay that was at least better than fuck, but I still had a long way to go.

My gaze shot upward and I wished to holy hell it didn't. Because oh my god I had just come face to face with Vincent Cabrini for the first time since I'd walked out on him in Italy, salacious pictures of us in hand.

"In a hurry, beautiful?"

"What are you doing here?" I hated the high pitched sound of my voice just then, but it couldn't be helped. As much as I knew my seeing him again was inevitable, I'd had no time to prepare myself for it.

As if I'd ever be prepared for this.

"I'm preparing for my next fight," he said, a definite smirk quirking at his lips.

I sighed, frustrated that he misunderstood. "I know that. I mean what are you doing here? Right this minute. At my door."

His expression didn't change, but the light in his eyes did. I could see the amusement dancing there and I didn't like it one bit. It felt like it was at my expense.

"I am at the elevator. I'm heading to the gym for training."

That answer got me looking at his muscles again. Especially his arms. I loved the chorded definition of his forearms. They'd looked especially good when he'd been naked with his hand wrapped firmly at my throat.

I'd been on my knees and the view alone had almost made me weep.

I nearly groaned at the image that brought to my mind. Mostly because my entire body perked up, including the nipples behind my way too thin bra. A deep jolt went through my lower belly at the same time.

This was exactly why I'd needed time to prepare myself to see him again. I might hate him with every fiber of my being for the role he played in exploding my life, but that didn't seem to stop my body from reacting to the memories of us together in Italy before my world ended.

Nor did it seem to mind that he was standing perilously close to me now. The intimacy of which went far beyond simple personal space. I gulped for air and took a step back. I needed a clear head for this, dammit.

"You look like you've already worked out." Why was my throat suddenly so dry?

A smile twitched at his lips again. "Just a warm up in my suite. Now the real workout begins."

Oh. My. God. Why did every word out of his mouth sound sexual? And why did it have to remind me of my time in his bed? I wanted to forget.

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