Burned Deep (Burned 1) - Page 22

He waited patiently for me to elaborate, but I couldn’t quite summarize for him how keeping the bottom from falling out of my life—the way it had for my dad—was imperative.

Dane didn’t seem inclined to let me off the hook, though. Continued to gaze at me expectantly.

Finally, I said, “It’s sort of a self-imposed thing. Don’t take it personally.”

“Impossible,” he murmured.

Heat erupted in my belly. Spread outward. A tempting, tantalizing sensation.

I got to my feet, albeit shakily. I crossed to the patio doors and stepped onto the terrace, needing the respite of cool air. The scenery really was too fabulous for words. The most stunning scenario to find myself in.

And the most amazing, breathtaking man I’d ever known—would ever know—offered me my own slice of the gorgeous pie.

When I felt him standing behind me, I dared to ask, “What, exactly, do you want from me—aside from accepting the director position?”

“You already know what I want.” He stepped closer, so that I inhaled his rich scent, more intoxicating and decadent than the most expensive champagne.

“Be specific,” I implored. Because I knew I dug a deeper hole every second I stayed here. I was entranced, hopelessly drawn into his beautiful, magnificent world. Entangled in a mysterious web I knew was dangerous to get caught in, but it was one I couldn’t seem to find the good sense to escape. Even when I had the chance.

His fingers gently swept my hair over one shoulder, purposely not grazing my skin. His head dipped and I felt his warm breath on my nape. A delicious shiver rippled down my spine.

His lips were so close to my neck, I could almost feel them. Though I knew I imagined that—because I craved the feeling. The one thing I avoided most in life. The ultimate threat.

“Dane,” I urged him to lay it all on the line. Because this was hazardous.

He whispered against my throat, “I want to touch you.” His breath rustled the wispy strands of hair, teasing me further. But he wasn’t done. “Ari,” he said in his sexy, enticing voice. “I want to taste you.”

chapter 5

I didn’t breathe for several seconds. Couldn’t breathe.

I’d never felt so surrounded—so permeated—by male heat, strength, aggression. It swept over my skin, burned through my body. The overwhelming desire to have Dane’s hand at the small of my back, a gesture I’d always deemed too intimate, took hold of me and wouldn’t let go. I willed it to happen, wanting the physical connection to coalesce with the visceral.

But that was impossible.

Just as I felt him make the move, I stepped away. Though liquid fire still rushed through my veins. I returned to the office. Dane closed the terrace doors behind us and followed me into the wide corridor.

We walked to the elevators in silence. When we reached them, I asked, “Is this the normal interviewing process for all your female executives?”

I instantly thought of the statuesque honey-blonde and wondered if she worked here. Had he enticed her with a fabulous office, breath-stealing words, and a salary to keep her closet stocked with Louis Vuitton?

I grimaced inwardly. That thought didn’t exactly gel in my mind. Dane didn’t seem like the type to burn both ends of the fuse when they could meet explosively in the middle.

And his sharp look said he wouldn’t dignify my question with a response.

I was afraid that would be the case. My instincts were a little too fine-tuned when it came to this man.

We entered the elevator and it took us down to the second floor. Miyanaga had covered our food with metal domes to keep the steaks warm. Not necessary for me. I’d lost my appetite. Nothing could compete with the inferno, raging out of control. I snatched my clutch and the note card and held on tight—so I wouldn’t touch Dane.

I wanted him in ways I couldn’t fully comprehend. It went beyond just having his hand at the small of my back. Far beyond my simple fantasy of him shoving my skirt up and thrusting into me. This wasn’t something I could get out of my system by asking him to take me to one of the hotel rooms for a quick fuck.

This wasn’t anything like my past hookups. For God’s sake, it wasn’t even a hookup and still I felt deeply entangled in something I could neither dissect nor wrap my arms around. I was so ensnared that the only word tripping through my mind was inevitable.

An alarming fate from which I couldn’t break free. Worse, I wasn’t sure I wanted to break free. Perhaps that was why I found it so alarming.

Rallying a bit of resistance, I told him, “I need to go.”

His hands were in his pockets and, once again, he didn’t crowd me. He shifted slightly and I walked past him, onto the mezzanine. He was by my side as we descended the stairs and crossed the vast lobby to the front doors. It started to rain. The valet, Brandon, opened a large black umbrella with the resort name in gold script across it.

Tags: Calista Fox Burned Romance
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