Page 41 of One Naughty Night (Single in South Beach)

Curving one arm around her waist, he rolled her to her back and shifted the pillow carefully beneath her head. Eyes at half-mast, she looked up at him with smoky desire in her gaze.

He didn’t have any intention of disappointing her. In fact, filled with the need to let her know they belonged together, Renzo made slow, thorough love to her. Each retreat from her tight heat urged him to come back for more and more. She met his every thrust, shivered at his every kiss until her body flushed pink, her lips trembling with that ultimate sensual need.

Withdrawing partway, he reached between them to touch the swollen heat of her. He feathered a finger across that throbbing center until her whole body went taut. When he thrust deep inside her the next time, she unraveled on contact. Her scream filled the room, reverberating through his chest and into his heart.

Those tiny, tight pulses of her feminine muscles nudged him over the edge, his completion feeling so damn good he about blacked-out from the rush of life force out his body.

When he snapped out of it, he realized he was still lying on top of her, not nearly careful enough about not crushing her. Rolling to his side, he tucked her drowsy body into his blankets, drawing her head on his chest.

And he’d never felt so complete in his life.

Six months after Celeste had left him standing at the altar, Renzo finally figured out why he had never felt compelled to chase after her. Fate had a different woman in mind for him all along, and he didn’t have any intention of letting Esmerelda Giles slip away.

* * *

The moment Esmeopened her eyes the next morning, she knew she needed to leave.

Definitely, absolutelyhadto slip away ASAP.

Too bad she’d never been so divinely comfortable in her entire life. She lay on her side in Renzo’s bed while he lay behind her, spoon-style. His arm draped over her waist, his hand flat against the mattress mere inches from her breast.

Sensual longing jolted through her even at five a.m. Even though she’d been intimate with him just two hours ago. And two hours before that, and forty-five minutes before that. Their night together should have worn her out but instead she felt energized, ready to take on the world.

Eager to face old demons.

Sliding from the nest of warm blankets, Esme knew she needed to act now before she shifted forward just enough to put her breast in Renzo’s hand. She could easily spend another hour or twenty tangling the sheets with this impossibly sexy man.

Retrieving her clothes—including the bra strewn over a framed photo of Renzo and his brother Nico in a Florida hockey uniform—she penned a quick note letting him know the time had come for her to settle an old score.

The gift Renzo had given her last night cemented her decision to embrace her future and be the woman Renzo seemed to see when he looked at her.

She wouldn’t be worthy of a relationship with Renzo or the gorgeous, solid maple desk he’d made for her until she proved to herself she could be as strong as he claimed. After the way they’d made love last night— as if they’d never get enough of one another— she was more determined than ever to wave goodbye to the old, insecure Esme.

Still, in order to claim any happily-ever-after for herself, the new Esme felt the need for some old-fashioned butt kicking first.

ChapterThirteen

Okay, so maybe she would admit the plans that seemed brilliant at five a.m. before the benefit of any coffee occasionally turned out to be the dumbest ideas in life.

Esme promised herself this was not one of those times as she pulled into the parking lot of the Southern Florida Museum building on South Beach, just down the road from Club Paradise where she and Renzo had met. Where she’d first realized she needed to stop hiding from life and start confronting it head on.

Of course, the free champagne that night had probably helped make her a bit bolder. Just now as she stepped through the employee entrance at the back of the museum shortly after seven, Esme longed for a little more of that bravado and a lot less of the nausea roiling through her belly at the thought of confronting Miles.

Renzo could do this.

The notion appeared in her mind out of nowhere, a gentle assurance that gave her a much-needed injection of confidence. And Renzo wouldn’t only confront a detractor because he was big and bad and had the power to intimidate with just the flex of his shoulders.

No, Renzo was the kind of man who would face his critics simply so he could sound off and make his opinion known. Exactly the reason Esme needed to take on Miles Crandall this morning. She would be heard.

She walked down the dim, well air-conditioned corridor toward the museum offices, the same path she’d tread every morning for five years. Following an exciting post-graduate internship at the Floridian arts center, she had been thrilled to remain there after receiving her degree, quickly working her way up to the assistant director position.

Now, as she passed old photographs of the Everglades through the last century, she experienced the familiar tingle of anticipation she’d felt every day she’d traversed this corridor. Working in a museum combined the best garage sale euphoria with the assurance she could have it all at no cost. The treasures within would always be accessible to all— exquisite finds that were absolutely free for the viewing.

As she paused in front of a footprint cast of a jaguar, Esme realized her work with Renzo could never fully take the place of her museum job. As much as she loved antiques, she needed to involve herself more deeply in art history again. Once the antiques business grew a reputation it wouldn’t be hard to juggle both jobs. After all, Renzo had his construction company.

And she owed it to herself to follow her own dreams.

If Miles Crandall thought he could intimidate her into running scared from her brass ring, he had another thing coming. Bravado in place, Esme marched past the door to her old office and smelled the coffee brewing in the small break room beside it. Ever a creature of habit, Miles took his coffee precisely at 7:30 a.m. before meeting with his staff at eight o’clock. She had the perfect window of opportunity to speak to him along with the guarantee of reinforcements nearby. He wouldn’t dare mess with her when his co-workers were within shouting distance.

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