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“I think we both know that you are.”

“Yeah.” He finishes off the bottle. “Still nice to hear from time to time. Especially coming from such beautiful lips.”

My jaw drops ever so slightly at the mere mention of my lips coming from his mouth.

I lean toward him, intoxicated by his closeness and the sensations coursing through me. He searches my face, and I want to nod. I want to grant him permission to touch me at his will. To explore whatever this is that’s crackling between us like a summer storm.

His hand reaches over and he caresses my cheek, cradling my face in his wide palm, his thumb dangerously close to the seam of my lips.

On instinct, I place my hand over his, holding it in place, and lean into his featherlight touch.

His eyes lock on mine, and I know it’s going to happen. He’s going to kiss me.

I close my eyes—

“Good evening. The pool will be closing in a few short minutes.” A woman’s voice cuts through the quiet night air, and I jump back like a nervous teenager.

I look around to see the people from earlier exiting the pool. I tug my lip into my mouth. I was so caught up in talking to Mr. Penthouse that I forgot we weren’t the only two out here.

“I apologize. I got a little carried away.” He stands first.

“No apology necessary.” I take his outstretched hand and allow him to help get me to my feet, a little light-headed from all the champagne. Or maybe it’s just him.

“I should get you back to your room,” he says, his voice low and husky while he grabs the empty bottle and disposes of it.

He reaches for my hand, and without thinking twice, I place my palm in his. That spark I felt earlier feels molten now.

“Have a good evening,” the staff member holding open the door says to us as we pass. “The terrace will reopen at sunrise.”

“You too,” we say in unison.

The party of four loads into the elevator first, followed by the two of us. We’re pressed close, my back to his front. He reaches up and places his gold card into the slot and presses 11 for me.

He remembers.

I’m hit with a wave of déjà vu, but this time, we’re both half-dressed and squished together. His touch sends shivers down my spine, awakening desires I didn’t know I had.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” he whispers as we step off on the eleventh floor. The intensity of his gaze sends a surge of electricity through me, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking.

“So, this is good night,” I muse awkwardly, not sure why I’m suddenly filled with regret. Not for what I did, but what I didn’t do.

“It is,” he replies, rocking back on his heels. “Rest well, Sunny. I’ll think of you every time I see the sunrise.”

I know it’s just a line, but a damn good one at that. And even if it’s just a fraction of the truth, I feel one of the broken shards in my chest slide back into place.

“Does that line usually work?” I smile over my shoulder as I swipe my key card to unlock the door.

“I don’t know. You tell me,” he says, leaning in and putting his hand on the doorframe.

“Yes,” I confess, sucking in a breath as his grip on the wood tightens and leans down.

“Good. Because you’re the first one I’ve ever used it on.” His words whisper across my lips, and then his mouth presses a tender kiss to my cheek. “Good night, Sunny.”

“Good night,” I respond, feeling a tug of reluctance as he steps back. Our eyes remain locked as if one of us wants to say something, but neither of us dares to speak.

Then, he turns to walk away, and I let the door close behind me. I fall against it, and all these feelings inside of me swhirl inside me like a storm, making it hard to think straight. I shouldn’t feel ashamed or guilty for wanting to invite him in, but I do. Because that’s what I should be feeling after today… right?

Then why don’t I?