Except, I know it will be an issue. Because even if we’re not sleeping in the same bed, I’ll still feel him there.
“This is altogether too convenient,” I mutter.
“Do you think I somehow orchestrated this whole thing?” Amusement colors his tone as he swipes the key card and opens the door. “Broke the air conditioner myself?”
I storm into the suite. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”
Soft, genuine laughter follows behind me. The sound makes my stomach flip and sends warmth throughout my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut against it.
When I open them, I see that there is no couch. Nothing else to sleep on at all. I head straight for the bathroom, grabbing every towel I can find. The bed is huge, covered in pristine white linens, and I start rolling the towels into thick logs.
“What are you doing?” Darius asks.
“Creating boundaries.” I place the rolled towels down the center of the bed in a neat line. “That’s your side. This is mine.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, and I try not to notice the way his shirt pulls across his shoulders. “This is childish.”
I glare at him. “Nothing is going to happen between us, Darius. We’ve already crossed too many lines.”
He moves so fast I barely have time to gasp. His strong hands grip my shoulders and push me down onto the bed, and then he’s over me, trapping me there. His face hovers inchesfrom mine.
“Which lines?” he murmurs. Lips brush my neck, the touch feather light. “This one?”
I shiver, my hands gripping the duvet beneath me.
He trails kisses along my jaw. “This one?”
“Darius…” My voice comes out breathy, desperate.
Fingers slide down my side, tracing the curve of my waist, my hip. “Or this one?”
I moan, arching into his touch before I can stop myself. Heat pools low in my belly, my body betraying every rational thought in my head.
No. This is exactly what I said would not happen.
In a burst of clarity, I grab one of the pillows and swing it at his head.
He stops, surprise flickering across his face as I shove him in the chest. He’s much stronger than me, but he lets me roll him over, lets me pin him down against the mattress.
He looks up at me, amused. Indulgent.
“You are going to behave yourself,” I say, breathing hard. “Keep your hands off me. This is getting dangerous.”
I’m straddling him, and I can feel him hard beneath me, pressing against my core. I jump off the bed, putting distance between us.
“I mean it,” I say, but my voice wavers.
Slowly, he sits up, watching me. Then, he reaches out, takes my hand, and pulls me toward him, circling my waist with both arms. Resting his chin against my stomach, he looks up at me.
“Nobody knows who we are here,” he says quietly. “And the gala is a masquerade ball.”
My fingers thread through his hair of their own accord. “This can’t go on, Darius.”
But even as I say it, I’m touching him. Even as I say it, my body is leaning into his.
He doesn’t reply, just buries his face against my stomach. I feel something twist painfully in my chest. Something that feels dangerously like longing.
A sharp knock on the door jerks me back to the present. I pull away from Darius, my heart hammering. “I’ll get it.”
