Fuck. I didn’t know how much I missed being touched by someone outside of the medical field. Even JoAnn, who has a wicked sense of humor when she’s not mad at me, never touched my hand or arm with anything but clinical precision.
Sloane touches me like I’m real. Likeallof me is real.
I move each finger in turn, and when she traces a line across my palm, I gently close the hand so I can capture hers.
“I didn’t expect…I thought it would be cold.” She doesn’t pull away, and shit. The urge to do more than hold her hand? I don’t know how much longer I can resist it.
“The titanium conducts heat from my arm. It’s not magic. Or intentional. Helps me feel a little less like a robot, though.” I force a chuckle as I turn away and lock the case, then catch sight of movement in my periphery. Dammit. I should have put on my glasses.
Marina stands in the doorway, her mouth hanging half open. Great. Why didn’t I bring a shirt with me?
Because you wanted Sloane to see you.
Hunching my shoulders, I pick up the case, hoping it doesn’tlooklike I’m fleeing the room—even though that’s exactly what I plan on doing—until Sloane touches my right arm. She’s laughing, and suddenly, I don’t feel quite as small. “You didn’t hear her. Marina just said, ‘Hello, muscles.’”
When I turn back around, the raven-haired stylist levels me with a stern gaze. “Do I have to chaperone the two of you?”
“We’re dating. Cover story, remember? Let it slip tosomeonetoday that you walked in on us kissing or half naked and Sloane threw a pillow at you or something. It’ll help sell the act.”
“Um, sure. Sloane? I need to be downstairs in an hour to handle the makeup for the other models. So I need you ready for me in fifteen minutes, okay?”
She must agree, because Marina grins. “Perfect. We’ll do it in the main room. Better light out there.”
“Wait.” Relinquishing my hold on the case, I take a couple of steps back so both women are more or less within my line of sight. “Marina, anyone at the party last night is going to know you and Sloane are close. Whenever you goanywhere, you take your panic button with you. I don’t care if you’re in the middle of a hundred other people. That button stays hidden somewhere you can get to it.”
The color drains from Marina’s cheeks, and Sloane brushes by me to take her friend by the shoulders. At the last minute she angles them both so I can see her lips. “Griff’s right. If they got to Max, they could get to you, and I can’t lose you.” Turning back to me, she chews on her lip for a moment, and her anxiety bleeds through her normally serene expression. “I don’t suppose you have a brother who could pretend to beMarina’sfake boyfriend?”
“No. But I can call my boss and see if they can find someone local. Even a rent-a-cop would be better than no protection.”
“Please?”
There are moments Sloane looks so vulnerable. So desperate. If I could give her the world, I would. In a heartbeat. Just to see her relaxed and happy again. Because right now? She’s wound so tight, one more turn and she’ll snap like a guitar string. “I need to call in before we leave for the press conference. We’ll get someone.”
Sloane’s shoulders heave as she blows out a breath and drapes her arm around Marina’s shoulders. “Until then, you have to be careful. Okay?”
Marina nods, then ducks out of Sloane’s grip. Picking up the case, I head for the door so I can give Sloane space to finish getting ready, but she stops me, her hand flat over my heart. “Stay for a minute?”
“Sure.” I don’t expect her to close the door, or how intimate it feels to be alone with her after what we just shared. “What do you need?”
Her fingers tremble against my skin, and this close, I canfeelher breath catch in her throat. “If we’re dating, we’ll need to kiss. Right?”
“Yeah.” Half the blood in my body heads south, and my mouth goes dry. “Why?”
“I haven’t kissed anyone in…a long time. I don’t want our first kiss to be in public.” Her cheeks are on fire now, and she won’t meet my gaze. The case hits the floor with athudI can feel through the soles of my feet, and I slide my left arm around her back.
My other hand, the one that’s still flesh and bone, tangles in her silky blond hair. If I’m not careful, I’ll fall for this woman, and thatcannothappen. But fuck. She smells like the tropics, and her gentle curves mold to my body in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time.
“Is this okay?” I whisper.
Her lips brush mine. Soft. Hesitant. She’s about to pull away when I kiss her back. The slight rumble in my chest surprises me, but damn. She tastes like fresh mint, and when I trace the seam of her lips with my tongue, she gasps, opening for me.
If there were an ounce of blood left north of my waist, I’d stop. Let her go. But I can’t, and when she figures out how to tangle her tongue with mine, white hot need shoots through me.
I’m hard as a rock in seconds, and though I could kiss this woman for days, I force myself to let her go and pull away.
Her brown eyes are dazed, unfocused, and she grabs my arm to steady herself, keeping me close enough she’s going to notice my dick straining against the gray linen any minute now. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Wow.”
