Page 48 of Prelude To You

There was a pause.

Then he chuckled. “As feisty as I remember.”

As he remembered?

“My name is Roman.”

This appeared to be a huge revelation for the man, telling me his name like it was a national secret. All I could manage was to softly repeat it. “Roman…”

“Your turn,” he said.

“Isabel.”

His expression gave nothing away, but the vein in his temple continued to throb, keeping the same rhythm as my racing pulse. With his free hand, he trailed his thumb up my arm until it found the hollow of my throat.

He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have touched the most vulnerable spot on my body, claiming full ownership of it and expecting me to remain cool.

A trapped sigh escaped my lips, and I knew the chances of running away from him were getting slimmer by the second. I had no idea whether he was just playing a game, but it didn’t matter anymore.

He drew me even closer, his thumb gliding over my skin, up my neck, lingering on my lower lip as if it was the most precious thing to touch. “Isabel,” he said softly, my name rolling over his tongue like well-aged wine. “What a lovely name. It suits you.”

And I don’t know what I was thinking but I molded my lips around his thumb, taking it into my mouth and gently sucking on it. And then I heard it, the sharp intake of breath he took through pursed lips.

When he reluctantly pulled his thumb from my mouth, his blue eyes had become darker. He looked around, taking inventory of his surroundings. And then he took a step back, deliberately creating a wider gap between us.

Did I go too far? Under the circumstances that would be a fair assessment.

I didn’t have the presence of mind to evaluate the actual damage to the status quo, since my drug euphoria still loitered stubbornly. There was also the fact that I currently had strong opinions about nonexistent troubles and wasn’t afraid to express them.

“Well, not to do that again,” I said defiantly.

Roman removed a stray curl from my cheek with utmost care. “Not here,” was all he said.

That was enough to fuel a new and delightful frisson to run freely through my body. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask,“Then where?”But thank God I didn’t.

He assessed me coolly, his hands now safely secured in his pants pockets. “Look, I have to go to this auction…”

“I know, that’s why I came here in the first place, remember?”

He bit a smile. “Yes, to thank me for the book. I do remember.”

It was the way he said it that irritated me a bit. As if he knew that wasn’t entirely true and enjoyed putting me on the spot. “By all means, go to your auction,” I quipped. “I’ll sit down on this bench until this drug bliss has worn off which shouldn’t be much longer, and then I’ll be on my way.”

“I have a better idea,” he said. “Come with me.”

As tempting as that sounded, in my condition the potential for disaster was very real. It was hard to keep it together for the few minutes I’d been with him here, let alone in a room full of people.

My inner doubts multiplied as the seconds ticked by. That was until Roman smiled. It was a smile that leisurely infused itself into your innocent soul and filled it with an unfamiliar yearning for the vendor of that smile. How the hell was I supposed to resist that?

“As long as you know what you’re getting yourself into,” I breathed. “I have no idea how bad it might get or when these drugs are going to start wearing off.”

He appeared to enjoy my discomfort. His gaze traveled from my eyes to my mouth, where it lingered for the longest time. He wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Oh, there will be some rules and I’ll expect you to keep to them,” he said.

“Rules? Like you telling me what to do?”

Instead of refuting that, he grinned. “Or whatnotto do, which seems a more likely requirement.”

“And what if I don’t want to follow your rules?”

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