Page 67 of Ruthless Lord
“What a gentleman.”
Frustration boils over. She’s acting like this visit is completely normal, and we both know it’s not. “Just tell me what this is all about so we can be done with it.”
There’s a tense silence. Her smile slips and she glances aside, down at my desk. I want to reach out and touch her so fucking badly it’s like a tsunami hammering against a levee. I’m inches from breaking down and shattering, and when that happens, I doubt I can stop the flood.
“You want the truth? You’re not going to like it.”
“Just tell me.”
She meets my gaze again. There’s a strange yearning in her expression. “Last night shook me, okay? It’s like we crossed a line.”
I didn’t expect that. I figured she’d make some kind of joke, layer more teasing and bullshit over her emotions. Anything to hide herself from me.
But instead, she’s stripping down. That’s the most vulnerable she’s ever truly been, and it sends a jolt down into my heart.
“You don’t have to feel that way.” I want to brush my fingers across her cheek. I want to lean in and kiss her lightly so she understands how I feel. “There doesn’t have to be lines.”
“You know that isn’t true.”
“But it could be if we let it.” My fingers grip the arms of the chair tighter. My knuckles turn white. “It’s okay, Charlie. I know what I want.”
“And what’s that?” She’s whispering. Her lips are spread and slightly damp. I love the little gap between her front teeth. I can’t get enough of the turn of her nose, the curve of her eyes. The bend at the top of her lips.
“I wantyou. Since the second you ripped my towel off.”
Her cheeks flush red. “I was running for my life.”
“Which is the only reason I didn’t make you stay and say sorry.”
“Stefano.” She whispers my name and sits forward. Fuck, we’re so close. “I need to know something.”
“Anything. Just ask. You know I’ll be honest.”
She reaches out. Her fingertips brush down my chin.
“Does the door lock?”
Chapter 20
Charlie
Ishould be ashamed of myself.
There is so much wrong with this situation.
For one, my intentions werenotpure.
And for another, they still aren’t.
But when Stefano looks at me like that, like I’m the most pure and beautiful woman in the entire world, it messes me up. It makes my brain do stupid things. Like touch him.
Like ask about the stupid door.
“It’s already locked,” he confirms, not moving but completely tensed. He’s like a predator struggling to stay still in the underbrush. Ready to spring but unable to loosen himself. “I need you to do something now.”
“What’s that?”
“Kiss me before I break my fucking promise again.”
