Page 71 of The Tallest Tower (Underbelly Enchanted)

“He’s still a kid. Still in his gangly teen phase.”

“No.” I close my eyes when Felix dips me back, pressing his plump lips to the front of my neck. It feels so good. So sultry. So very forbidden, especially when we discuss the victims of his father’s murderous ways. “His hair is darker than anyone else’s. His arms and legs, longer.”

“He’s gonna play pro ball soon.” Proud, Felix’s eyes dance as he pulls me straight and sets his hand firmly on my backside. “I raised that little fucker to be the best basketball player he could be. I needed to give him options and a reason to get out of this city.”

“Well, I think…” I try to move Felix’s hand—I swear, I grunt and squirm as I try to wriggle out of his grip. But all I manage to do is inch closer against his firm body so I find his cock, even firmer, pressed to my hip. “I-I think you may find his mother was athletic too. Tall. With black hair and almond-shaped eyes.”

He stops moving. Stops swaying.

He holds me as the music comes to its peak, looking into my eyes until I think my world might explode.

Then, just went I think I can’t take the pressure of his stare any longer, he flashes a wolfish smile and starts our swaying again. “I wish youwantedto be here, Christabelle.” He places his right hand on the top swell of my ass and dances, his legs laced with mine. His thigh brushes my core, and his cologne fills my lungs. “I wish you wouldn’t run out of here screaming the second I opened the doors.”

“Maybe in another lifetime.” I give up on my resolve and rest my cheek on his broad chest. His heart pounds beneath my ear, and his nose comes down to rest in my hair. “If you weren’t a don’s son,” I sigh, “and if I weren’t Michael Cannon’s daughter.”

“Where is he, anyway?” He presses a sweet kiss to my hair. I’m not sure he even realizes. I’m not sure he meant to. Shit, I’m not sure either of us are in control of ourselves at this point. As goosebumps sprint along my skin and my heart gallops with nerves, I think I’ve lost my battle against blindly hating this man. “Michael used to run that magazine. Now he’s nowhere to be seen.”

“It’s anewspaper,” I drawl, knowing he’s picking, purely to be a nuisance. “We deal in facts, Felix. Not drivel and gossip.”

“Coulda fooled me.” He slides his fingers along my ribs, drawing a fresh round of goosebumps to the surface. “I read a whole bunch of gossip with my family’s name attached to it, Darling. I’m surprised he let you publish that shit.”

“He doesn’tletme do anything. I’m a grown woman whose position inside that company was earned. Not inherited.”

“See?” He pulls back and steals a portion of my soul with his boyish smile. “Gossip and half-truths. How embarrassing for you.”

“And you’re still as insufferable as ever.” I push away and disconnect our bodies until his hands fall to his sides and my heart yearns to step forward again.

I didn’t actually expect him to let me go.

“Four days with you, and you’ve yet tonotbe annoying.” Disappointed—with him, or myself?—I turn on my heels and search for the door. “I’m kinda tired. So I’d better?—”

He grabs my hand and tugs me back, a squeal jumping from my throat, and my arms flailing until they find purchase, wrapped around his neck. “Not time for bed yet, Darling.”

“Felix—”

“Join me for dinner.” He brushes his lips along my jawline, my heart seizing to a stop. “Last time,” he breathes. “Last night together.”

Curious, I pull back and study his face. “What?”

“Tomorrow, you can go.” His eyes flicker between mine. Searching. Probing. “One more dinner. One night. Let’s pretend to be friends for twelve hours more. Then tomorrow, I’ll have a car take you back to Manhattan.”

“And you’ll just… let me go?” Nerves pummel my veins and make my brain slow.Is he lying? Laying a trap? Joking?“Just like that? What if I publish more stories about you?”

“What if I want you to?” His gaze drops to my lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own in anticipation. “If you continue to write about me, I’ll know you’re still thinking about me.”

“Felix…”

“But if you want to visit me,” he inches closer, crushing my ribs when he wraps his arms around my torso, “you’re welcome to.”

“Any time?” I rasp, searching for truth. For sense. For understanding. Though I can’t help the suspicion taunting me from the back of my mind. “Any day?”

“I will give you keys to the front door. And a security detail to keep you safe. I’ll buy you as many insulin pumps as you need so you never end up like you did two nights ago. And I’ll order my men to allow you to come and go as you please.” Finally, he slides his tongue just a quarter of an inch forward and taps my bottom lip until a gasp explodes from my lungs.

“You’re gonna run tomorrow,” he nibbles on my bottom lip and drags it between his teeth. “You won’t come back, I know that. But let’s pretend.” He brings his hand up and traces the lines of my body with the tips of his fingers. “Give me one night where I can pretend you want me too. And tomorrow, I’ll give you freedom.”

“No.” I pull away, jolting him into compliance and drawing his horrified eyes to mine.

His cheeks pale, and his stare turns hooded. Angered. He takes a step forward. So I take a step back.

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