“Aspen.” He took my hand.
Yep, just as I feared—a fierce connection. One I didn’t want to lose.
“You have to stop thanking me or any man who is treating you with decency. You deserve it and more. Will you please believe that? Get that bastard ex out of your beautiful head.”
I squeezed his hand before reluctantly letting go. “I’m trying.”
He patted my leg. “Try harder.” He grabbed the remote. “Let’s watch your show.”
I lowered his hand before he could press play. “Miles . . . I’ll help you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
WhathadIagreedto?Whymight have been the better question. But when I gazed into his beautiful eyes, I knew exactly why. He got me. It was as if he could see into my soul, and as broken as it was, in each piece all he saw was me. The whole me. How did he do that?
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
No, I wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to kiss him like I wanted to take my next breath, but I thought about Addendum A in my employment contract. While it didn’t enumerate romantic acts, I felt like kissing definitely qualified as one. “Does this qualify as a firing offense?”
He let out a long, drawn-out breath. “I would never fire you.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, I swore I heard a hint of regret in there. Did he want to fire me? “Do you think I’m doing a good job?”
He hesitantly reached up and ran the back of his hand down my cheek, leaving a trail of heavenly sparks. “You have been more than I ever hoped for.”
“Um . . .” I stammered. “That right there is a good way to start a kissingscene.”
“You think so?” He inched closer. Our legs were now touching.
“Yes,” I whispered, hardly believing this was happening. “I think what’s missing in your books’ kissing scenes is the build-up.”
“What would you like to see?”
“Well,” I bit my lip. “For Isabella, she needs someone who will take his time. Someone who will seduce her with his words and gentle touches.”
“How should Dexter touch Isabella?”
All over. No. Not going there. Holy mother what was I doing?I let my legs relax and turned more toward him. I took a deep breath and reminded myself this was only research. “I liked the way . . . I mean Isabella would probably enjoy having her cheeks caressed.”
Miles leaned in with a hungry look and rested his warm hand on my cheek. His thumb stroked my blushing cheek. “Like that?” he asked.
I nodded through heart palpitations.
“What next?”
“He would whisper her name like it was a secret that he wanted to keep to himself.”
He drew close enough that I could feel his breath on my face. “Aspen,” he groaned low.
Wow, did he follow directions well. The butterflies in my stomach gave him an A+.
“What is Isabella thinking?” he breathed into my ear.
“She wants him, but she’s afraid.”
“How does Dexter help her?”
“He tells her the truth.”
