Page 72 of Oblivion

Our purposeful activity helped deflect from the underlying bands of chemistry in the air. I was sure Dante felt them too. How was I expected to ignore it forweeks?

“Does Jackson know about us?” I asked on a whim.

Dante straightened and tugged up his jeans. “Vegas? No, he doesn’t.”

“Isn’t that something that should have been disclosed before you became my personal security guard?”

His lips briefly pursed, and he ran a hand through his hair. The movement tugged the hem of his shirt high, gifting me with hints of the deep V I’d become acquainted with in Sin City.

Dante seemed to read my thoughts, and snapped his arm down. “Truthfully? I told Tate while we were looking for you, and he thought it would be funny to talk in Jackson’s ear.”

“So, couldn’t you have just made up some excuse about not wanting to do it?”

He cleared his throat and pinned me to the spot with his wolfish gaze. “Icouldhave, but I didn’t want to.”

“Would you have been jealous?” I teased, grinning and leaning forward, using my shins as leverage against the side of the foldout bed.

His jaw ticked. “Nope. Not jealous, just the best man for the job.”

Ah. Right. Yes, back to that. I was thejob.

Turning away before I said something that turned into another argument, I offered to find the linen. I carefully walked down the stairs while admiring the open-plan loft from above.

The decor screamed masculinity, while the wooden tones brought warmth. The security measures of this apartment calmed the nagging voice of unease in my head. I didn’t dare admit it out loud, but when we went to my place to pack my bags, I was scared shitless. Going into my room gave me the heebie-jeebies.

Here, though, in Dante’s place, I didn’t feel any of that. No apprehension. No lingering fear over someone being concealed within my room. No panic over whether or not I’d shut the window tight enough, or having to fight the urge to check every latch in the house. Here, I felt safe and protected.

After finding the linen and taking a curious look through the bathroom, I made my way back upstairs and paused at Dante’s bedroom doorway. He’d swapped his dark jeans for joggers, and was in the process of pulling on a crew-neck. I stopped short, and fuck yeah, I gawked.

His abs flexed and coiled as he worked the tee over his head, and as soon as his head popped through the neck hole, his amber eyes hit mine.

“Shit, sorry. I obviously need to learn to shut my door from now on.” He flashed a grin that made me flustered.

“You don’t need to just because I’m here. It’s your place, so just do whatever. I don’t mind if you leave it open.” My eyes widened and I stammered to correct myself. “Shit, that came out wrong. Start closing the door. I don’t want to see that.Notthat I’m offended, because you are more than good down there—” I waved a hand to encompass his entire body, then pressed it to my rapidly reddening cheeks. “Oh, God, this is mortifying. Kill me now!”

Dante threw his head back and laughed heartily.

“And you need to stop laughing like that,” I snapped, irrationally irritated by how readily my body came to life for him. “I’ll just… be making up my bed if you need me.”

I hurried the ten steps to the next bedroom and tossed the bedding onto the mattress. Pressing my hands to my face, I squealed into my palms and stomped my feet a little. I could literally die of embarrassment, especially with Dante’s laughter still penetrating the brick wall separating us.

Degrees hotter than my resting temperature, I flapped at my face, then removed my leather bomber jacket. With the layer gone, the conditioned air touched my exposed waist and extinguished some of my skin’s heat.

Still muttering and chastising myself over my inability to maintain composure at the sight of Dante’s sculpted torso, I dumped the linen on the floor and plucked up the fitted sheet. I had it fitted and was starting on the top sheet when Dante appeared, with the wide grin still on his mouth.

“Don’t speak just yet,” I warned. “I still can’t even.”

He let out a snicker and reached for the sheet when I flicked it out. “Wasn’t going to say a word.”

“You just did.”

A snort came. “While it’s still awkward, can I just beg you to closeyourdoor while you’re dressing? It’s one thing you seeing me topless, but me seeing you…” He trailed off and cleared his throat. “It’s different.”

I beat the sheet into submission since it was unacceptable to beat the man helping me make my bed.

“It’s not as if you haven’t seen me naked before.”

“Time and place, Penelope, and here is neither,” he stated, despite the heat in his eyes.

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