her face was close to his, and she could feel his hot breath on her. They were equals. Not boss and nanny. Not weekend arrangement pals. They were making love. Love.
He pumped into her, the modern frame screeching under the pressure. The sight of his glistening face was too gorgeous to ignore. She kissed him, her tongue delving into his mouth, and he responded by thrusting into her deeper, stronger. Soon, the throbbing sensations that began in her core spread through her, and she trembled.
She opened her eyes and watched him, and realized he was climaxing, too.
Then they fell on the mattress, their bodies stuck together, warm and sated.
“Why did you pick my room?” He ran his fingers through her hair.
“I guess I didn’t think much about it. Then after I showered, I realized this is an enormous penthouse and I should have gone somewhere else.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” He planted a kiss on her neck. “This is the first time I brought someone here since my wife died.”
“Really?” she asked, a tiny light inside her brightening like a lighthouse. That had to mean something, right? He wouldn’t just have sex with her in that room unless she meant something. She wasn’t just the nanny anymore. “Did you, er, date after her passing?”
He yawned. “Not right away. I just wanted to be there for Cara. I took a few women out, yes, but it felt wrong bringing them into my home.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he kissed the top of her head, and she could sense he was falling asleep. His muscles relaxed, and he closed his eyes. Love. Could this be happening?
Drumming her fingers on his chest, she peered up at him again. Yep. Lorenzo, Mr. B, cockalicious man certainly wasn’t wasting any time musing over his emotions. He was out like a log.
Carefully, she disengaged from him. He muttered something and threw his arm to the other side of the bed, as if searching for her, but she just inhaled and swung one leg over the other. A heat rushed through her, awakening all her cells. There was no way she’d sleep. She needed to figure things out.
She was Alice Sommers, for crying out loud. The woman who was used to solving problems and taking charge. Slipping out of bed, she realized her pulse still raced. Why? She just had sex. In his home.
Because you love him.
She silently cursed the inner voice that kept whispering to her. Then why did her body work in tandem with the idea, and she felt like she was about to have a mini panic attack? Water. She needed water. To drink, to splash on her face, or as last resort—a cold shower.
Ignoring the fact she showered not that long ago, she headed to the bathroom. But not without glancing at the fine male specimen sprawled over the large bed one more time. Lorenzo Baldi.
He could have stayed behind and secured his deal with Viola. Instead, he came back with her to Austin, and even offered for her to spend the night at his place. He’d taken care of her. When they came together…for once in her life, everything was right where it was supposed to be.
She tiptoed into the bathroom and closed the door behind her without a sound. His deep, cultured voice rang in her ears. “I took a few women out, yes, but it felt wrong bringing them into my home.”
That wasn’t the case with her, otherwise he wouldn’t have broken the rules, would he? They had sex in his home—clearly breaking the agreement they made in Capri. She opened the tap and let the cold water slip through her fingers.
If he did all that because he cared for her…she wasn’t scared. She wasn’t even a tiny bit scared. Her heart leaped to her throat and throbbed in her mouth. Okay, maybe a bit scared.
When she raised her eyes to meet her reflection in the mirror, she stifled a gasp. Her eyebrows were drawn together, yes, but there was a glow in her wide brown eyes. A red stain spread across her cheeks. She splashed some cool water on her skin, but it didn’t dampen the simmering, newfound truth… She loved Lorenzo Baldi. Oh, shit.
Lorenzo chugged down the cup of coffee. He stole another glance Alice’s way as she moved on the bed, coming awake from deep sleep. The alarm clock on his nightstand read seven o’clock, and he knew he should wake her up. It was early,