He leans in.
“Yeah, I’m agreeing to this being calledjust sexfor now.”
His eyes bore into mine.
“But you’re not fooling anyone, Chiara.”
“Excuse me?”
“This is more.You know it and I know it.”
Heat rushes straight to my face.
“That is extremely presumptuous.”
“And yet you’re blushing.Your pulse is racing.And I bet if I checked, your panties would be soaked, wouldn’t they?”
I groan.
“You are impossible.”
“And yet,” he says quietly, stepping closer again, “here we are.”
For a second, neither of us moves.
The air between us is thick with tension.
Dangerous.
Familiar.
And my heart starts pounding again.
Because maybe—just maybe—one more night wouldn’t hurt.
Right?
Just enough to get him out of my system.
That’s all.
“I suppose,” I start slowly.
His eyebrow lifts.
“I suppose,” I continue, trying very hard to sound calm and rational, “one more night wouldn’t violate my personal code too badly.”
A slow smile spreads across his face.
“Only because you agreed,” I add quickly.“And only because I’m willing to admit this ridiculous attraction clearly isn’t going away yet.”
His grin widens.
“So that’s a yes?”
“It’s a limited agreement.”
“Sure,” he murmurs, voice warm and teasing, “but that sounds an awful lot like a yes.”
