“Okay. Ask me something.” I take a bite to distract myself, hoping he doesn’t ask me anything I don’t want to answer.
And he’s right. The margherita pizza is to die for.
“Are you here alone?” he asks.
My heart beats faster.
“Why do you want to know?”
“That’s another question.”
Damn him, he’s right a second time.
I purse my lips, weigh whether I should lie or tell the truth. Woman Traveling Alone 101: don’t tell strangers you’re flying solo. But there’s something about Alessio. And besides, I’m at the hotel, surrounded by people.
“Yes, I’m here alone,” I say.
He takes a bite of his pizza, and it should be criminal to look that sexy while eating. He doesn’t say anything. Just watches me, his stare holding me in a grip like we’re the only two people in the world. I don’t even see the moon glinting off the ocean over the terrace. All I see is him.
“Your turn,” he finally says.
And for a second, I have no clue what he’s talking about. I blink, my brain catching up to the conversation. My turn for a question.
“If you’re not a bartender, then what are you?” I ask.
“An investor.” He picks up his water glass and takes a slow sip.
I watch his Adam’s apple bob. God, even the way he drinks is hot. A trickle of perspiration slides down my spine. This man looks nothing like I imagine a businessman would. Not with those tattoos on his hands or the subtle aura of menace that rolls off him.
“What kind of investor?”
The corners of his lips curve ever so slightly. “The kind who invests.”
He’s giving me very little to go on. I can play that game too.
“Your turn for a question,” I tell him, deciding I’ll give him the same vague answer.
He settles his glass back on the sleek tabletop. “What are you doing with the rest of your night?”
My stomach flips. Is he asking me what I think he’s asking me? And do Iwanthim to be asking me what I think he’s asking me? The answer hits me all at once like a wave breaking on the sand.
Yes. I do. I really, really,reallydo.
“That depends.”
He leans forward, elbows on the table, drowning me with the intensity of his stare. “On?”
“You.”
Saint
We’re barelyin the door to Isla’s room before her mouth is on mine. I’m not sure which one of us made the first move. Maybe we collided halfway. All I know is that I have her pinned to the wall and my hands are in her hair and she’s kissing me greedily, like I’m the oxygen she needs to breathe. She smells like sunshine and citrus, and she’s so fucking soft.
When she invited me to her room after dinner, I knew I should say no. Best man, best behavior and all that shit. As my brother’s right-hand man, I can’t afford to indulge in the distraction of a woman right now. Our rise to the top is still too new, the blood spilled too fresh for me to relax my guard, even in an island paradise.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was a chance I couldn’t risk not taking. Besides, she’s in St. Thomas on vacation. I’m here for a wedding. In a few days, we’ll both be gone and never see each other again. A one-night stand with a woman who’s not at all my type and yet makes my dick harder than steel.
What could go wrong?
