Page 37 of Accidentally Yours
Oh, yes!
Oh, what was happening?!
“Fabulous! This is perfect,” the journalist urged them on. “Yes, yes, just like that!”
Paige wasn’t sure what to do with her hands or face or racing heart. She tried to channel one of her romance heroines, but when her eyes flicked up to meet Ethan’s, she forgot what she was doing. Because he was looking at her like she was the leading lady of the show they’d just watched. Like she’d swept him off his feet with a magical performance.
His thumb brushed the back of her hand, sending a trail of heat up her spine.
The journalist snapped a few more photos. “Oh, you two have such great chemistry!”
Paige let out a nervous laugh.
And then—
Ethan’s gaze deepened. His fingers curled tighter around hers and his expression shifted as he asked, “Have I told you how beautiful you are today?”
The words were soft and low, meant only for her. But Paige heard them like a thunderclap. Her breath hitched, and for one stupid, panicked second, her lips worked faster than her brain and she awkwardly replied, “No.” But only because she couldn’t think straight. She’d momentarily forgotten their code question. The phrase Ethan had come up with. The secret way he could ask if he could kiss her.
Her heart pounded, and when disappointment shifted across Ethan’s face, she remembered. And she barely let him suffer before breathing out a single word.
“Yes,” she breathed, wanting him to kiss her. The problem was, she wanted it for real. “I meant, yes,” she repeated, and Ethan’s mouth twitched at the corners, just before his eyes darkened, like the deep blue of an ocean.
And then—slowly, deliberately—he leaned in.
His hand slid over her jaw, into her hair, tilting her head exactly the way he wanted. Paige’s breath shook. Her lips parted. Her pulse thundered. His lips hung just inches from hers as he studied her, for what felt like hours.
And then he closed the distance, with a deep, consuming, knee-weakening kiss.
For a split second, her knees buckled—actually buckled—and Ethan grabbed hold of her waist. He gathered her close without missing a beautiful beat with his lips.
Who was this man?
And what kind of spell had he cast on her?
Her senses catalogued him. Aged leather and spice. Pillow-soft lips taking charge of hers. A strong embrace, holding her upright.
A shiver ran up her spine.
His kiss made her dizzy. It tasted like trouble and heaven, sending conflicting messages to her brain. And just when Paige reached up to pull him even closer, the journalist spoke.
“These pictures are perfect! Thanks, guys!”
Her words crashed through the moment, and Paige slowly came back to reality, breath still uneven, heart still racing, lips still tingling.
She pulled back.
Because it was a stark, gut-punching reminder—that Ethan had kissed her for the camera. He’d kissed her for show.
And the worst part?
She’d kissed him like it was the start of something real.
Chapter Thirteen
Ethanunlockedthedoorto his condo and stepped inside. Paige followed. The space was dark until he flipped on the recessed lighting, illuminating the open-concept living area and kitchen, and somehow overemphasizing his lack of décor, which had never really bothered him before.
A gray sectional with perfectly fluffed pillows sat in the center of the room. The kitchen gleamed, every stainless-steel appliance and granite countertop spotless. The only sign of life was a single glass in the drying rack by the sink.
