Page 90 of Dream Chaser

“Have a good time?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I untied the belt of my robe with fingers that shook.

The robe slid off my shoulders. Without its warmth, goosebumps rose across my skin. I left the robe on the chair and turned toward Alejandro.

He rested his forearms on the pool’s edge, water sliding down his skin in reflective lines of rose and violet.

There was nothing soft about his body. It was all hard lines and lean muscle. Heat rushed to my cheeks. I ran the tip of my tongue over my bottom lip.

He stayed still. Watching.

My lungs fought for air.

His gaze dipped to my chest—just for a second, but I noticed. He might’ve noticed how I looked at him, too.

It wasn’t how I should be looking at my boss, but now it was only us. No need to pretend.

The magenta hue softened his features, or maybe it was because of the warmth in his gaze. It felt like he was admiring me. Drinking me in.

“Come here,” he said.

I stepped toward him, unsteady.

“The water’s warm. You should try it,” he added, like he feared I’d mistake the invitation for something less appropriate.

Another step toward the edge, then I dipped my toes in the water inches away from him.

Strong fingers curled around my ankle. A tremor rippled through me.

“Careful,” Alejandro said, smoothing his thumb over the bone in a light caress. “I can’t let you fall.”

“How considerate of you.”

A faint smile touched his mouth. “You bring out the best in me, Nova Lockhart.”

My heartbeat quickened. Hopeful. Excited.

I lowered myself onto the black tiles lining the pool’s edge, letting the lower half of my legs dangle in the water. “How deep is it?”

“Find out for yourself.” In one smooth movement, Alejandro slid his arms around my waist and pulled me into the pool.

The contact with his warm, solid body made me gasp. I descended slowly, aware of his eyes on me. Of his heat blanketing my skin. Of the hard line of muscle beneath my hands as he held me close, as if he truly feared I’d fall.

This wasn’t the usual, restrained version of him. Something had changed. Shifted.

In an uncharacteristic bout of boldness, I brought my hand to his face and cupped his cheek.

A sharp exhale pushed past his lips, warming my wrist.

“Nova.” He said my name like it hurt. Like my touch, or my presence, brought him pain.

I dropped my hand, but he caught my wrist and lifted it back to his face, settling my palm against his cheek.

My thumb traced his jaw, memorizing every line. He was beautiful. Beneath the professional façade, there was softness. And now I caught him off guard. Myself, too. Maybe because I’d been unfairly accused of something I hadn’t done, which made me want to act reckless.

Maybe because I liked him more than I should, and I was tired of fighting it.

“This is a bad idea,” Alejandro whispered, lips grazing my wrist. The magenta glow deepened shadows along his jaw, across the slope of his collarbone.