Page 26 of Royally Roma
He took a slow, labored inhale and backed up a step.
“What was that?” Julia panted. “You can’t just...we can’t...”
“That was a kiss, Miss Costa.” He placed his palms against the cool stone wall behind her head, hemming her in.
Despite her words, she strained toward him, the soft swell of her breasts skimming his chest. Eyes wild, lips delectably swollen, she didn’t look at all like a woman on the verge of running away. But he had no intention of allowing it, should the thought cross her mind.
“I wholeheartedly doubt it’s something you haven’t experienced before, although I admit I find the idea of being the first man to taste you utterly intoxicating.”
“Rest assured, you’re not. I’ve been kissed before. Plenty of times.” She lifted her chin in what Niccolo could plainly see was a show of false bravado. She might have been kissed by other men, but not like this. Not in a place where history lived and breathed, where the stones cried and destiny danced. Where yesterday became today became tomorrow.
And not by a man who wanted her as much as he did.
He glanced at her fists, still clutching at his suit jacket. She had such a tight grip on him that her knuckles had gone white.
“Why don’t I believe you?” he asked with a wry smile.
Her divine face went instantly pink.
“This is not in any way appropriate,” she said, releasing her hold on his clothing.
He cast a bemused glance at his wrinkled suit. Evidence of just how much she’d enjoyed acting so inappropriately. “You may find this difficult to believe, Julia, but I’m the last person you need to lecture on proper behavior.”
“I highly doubt that,” she retorted, a flash of defiance in her eyes. “This needs to stop. I’m your guide, not your mistress.”
A fact he was too aware of. Even so, having her remind him in such a blunt manner mere seconds after his hands had been all over her rubbed him entirely the wrong way. Did she have any idea to whom she was speaking?
No, of course she doesn’t.“You’re angry with me.”
“Yes,” she said, dropping her gaze.
“Why?” He twirled a wayward lock of her hair around one of his fingers and noted with pleasure when she failed to protest. Standing this close and not touching her was killing him.
She narrowed her pretty eyes. “I think you know why.”
He froze.
She’d discovered his true identity somehow? But how? “Julia...”
“I wasn’t late. In fact, I was early.” Her eyes shimmered suddenly with unshed tears. Tears for which he was supposedly responsible.
Niccolo blinked. He had no clue what she was talking about, which could only mean one thing. The actual Mr. Romano was the culprit.
“Of course you were,” he said, wishing she would expand on whatever terrible thing his nom de guerre had done.
He was torn—torn between relief that his identity was still a secret and the need to pound Romano into the ground for making her cry.
“I think it’s best if we keep things strictly professional. My boss is upset with me enough as it is.” Storms gathered in her eyes. Niccolo could see how conflicted she was as clearly as if it were written across her lovely forehead. He might be capable of drawing a response from her body, but her mind was another matter entirely. “Besides, not every woman you meet wants to sleep with you.”
In fact, they typically did. With one notable exception—the woman standing before him.Ifhe was to believe her, which he did not.
He saw the desire in her eyes, which were heavy-lidded and wild. She might be angry, but she was every bit as aroused as he was. She was intoxicated with it—the yearning, the ache. It was palpable. It shimmered in the air between them, hot and electric. She felt it, too. Just as keenly as he did. She was shivering and delicious, fighting for control when it absolutely should have been the other way around.
This is for the best.
It shouldn’t matter whether or not she wanted to sleep with him. In a matter of hours, he would return to his real life. They would never cross paths again. Her opinion of him shouldn’t matter at all.
It shouldn’t, but it did.
