Page 1 of Red Hot Harmony

1 Camille

Dante kissed me.

My entire body was buzzing.

I didn’t see where I was going, just that I was running through the huge, empty, unfamiliar house and outside to the front terrace, beyond the ridiculously extravagant fountain and toward the gate that was now closed and the security guards were gone.

The shimmering lights above my head sparkled and danced against the dark sky when I lifted my face.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I wasn’t even sure why I’d muttered those words, but they seemed fitting because it was silly to continue this game, to continue pretending there was nothing going on between us. He just wasn’t willing to wait and see.

He cheated.

He took what he wanted and, sadly, I wasn’t sure I could blame him for that.

Maybe I wanted it too.

“Camille?” His distant voice came from the direction of the house.

I spun and saw him rushing over. There was something desperate in his eyes, something final.

Even with the burn on my lips and the flutter below my belly, my defensive mechanisms kicked in instantly. “You had no right,” I hissed, my heart pounding hard against my ribs.

“I’m sorry.” He walked over until we were nearly face-to-face, our bodies almost touching. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, you don’t,” I bristled. I wasn’t certain what to make out of that kiss. It was unexpected and...good, his mouth gentle and insistent and wonderful all at once.

Dante reached for my hand, and surprisingly, I didn’t put up a fight. I simply let him twine his fingers with mine. His palm was warm, dry, and slightly callused.

“I can’t keep doing this, Camille,” he said quietly but firmly. “Go to your house andpretendwe’re just friends. Because we’re way past being just friends.”

“You shouldn’t have kissed me in front of these people...my daughter.”

“You don’t think Ally is old enough to know what’s going on between a man and a woman?”

He was right. She did, but it felt wrong. Such a public display of deep affection.

“So it’s okay for her to see Frank kiss his girlfriend, but it’s not okay for her to see her mother kissing someone?” He sounded hurt.

“That’s the problem. You’re someone.” I jerked my hand back, a feeble attempt to free myself from his grasp. Not because it was unpleasant but because I couldn’t properly get upset at him when he was setting off all sorts of fireworks in my body.

“And whose fault is that?” Dante refused to let me go, his fingers tightening around mine.

“So you’re blaming me now?”

“You don’t understand what I’m trying to say.”

“What are you trying to say?” I lifted my chin higher, hating the fact that, even in these shoes I was wearing, he was still too tall for me to look him straight in the eye. I had to tilt my head up.

“Me and you, mama,” he whispered in my ear. “Aren’t meant to be friends.”

Heat pulsed through my stomach and between my thighs. I felt it—the strange pull, the dark draw of him, the hurricane that was this insane attraction we’d been battling for months now.

“What are we meant to be then?” I asked, my voice shaking.

He stared at me, long and hard, the twinkling lights stretched out above the yard reflecting in the black pools of his eyes. “You’re too scared to give me a chance because everyone else failed you. Ally’s father failed you.”

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