Page 36 of The Scandal You Started
“Dominic,” she grumbled, her brows knotting together. “It’s theonlyidentity you can have for this to work. Otherwise, there’s no reason for you to be working with me.”
Dominic’s heart melted into a puddle of liquid adoration at the twisted pout on her mouth. He nearly folded over with a groan of sweet agony.
How on Neves was he supposed to resist such a lovely yet sensual look that could convince mortal enemies to end their war against each other?
It took every ounce of willpower not to scoop her into his lap and kiss her silly while he promised to give her the entire world, whatever she wanted. He’d play the curator, historian, whatever as well as he bloody damn could if that was what would make her happy.
But Dominic couldn’t pretend he didn’t want more from her, from this situation they were in.
“I could be your lover,” he heard himself rasp, the words out of his mouth before he could convince himself to reconsider. To patiently wait until she’d softened a bit more towards him.
Rayna went still as her charcoal eyes searched his face. “Very funny,” she said blandly. “And no. You’d still have no reason to work with me.” She pushed herself back from the table and stood. “Pick up your plates and put them in the sink. You can wait upstairs while I wash up.”
As she picked up her own empty dishes, Dominic watched her, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek.
Her dismissal grated, but he hadn’t foolishly thought it’d be that easy with a stubborn little witch like her. It’d take much more than a few words of flirtation to earn her affection.
But that simply made him even more determined to evoke inside her what she’d awoken within him.
Jake:
Hi how are you?
Hows the project going?
Rayna:
Hey Im good just tired
Today was busy and long
Kind of wish I was still on the beach with you
Jake:
Damn that sucks
I wish you were here too
It’s not as fun without you
Chapter 11
Rayna
The next day, after Rayna spent the morning yelling at Dominic to stop trying to stick his fingers into every socket he came across, having taught him about electricity, there came a knock at the front door of the farmhouse.
Dominic lifted his head from the manual in his hands. “Was that the door?” he asked, sprawled on the fabric sofa along the wall facing the bi-fold garden doors.
“Yeah,” she said, closing the fridge.
“Were we expecting someone?”
“It’s River,” she threw over her shoulder as she walked out the arched entryway and down the cream corridor.
“What?” she heard Dominic rumble.
She passed the closed door to the makeshift basement gym and an alcove corridor that led to a utility room and water closet, before reaching the sitting room entrance opposite the wooden staircase, carpeted in the same latte colour as the upstairs rooms. A rectangular mirror hung on the wall between the stairs and the office-library at the front right of the house.
