Sicilian's Christmas Bride - Page 37

It was a good save. The sudden lift of her eyebrows told him so.

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“This way, you’ll work for the money,” he said, feeling his way carefully through the explanation that had suddenly come to him and knowing it was flawed. Give her too much time, she’d realize that. “I’m simply offering you a practical way out of your dilemma.”

Yes, Tally thought. That was how it seemed—but then, the fly that had wandered into the spider’s parlor had probably thought she was being asked in for a cup of tea.

And yet, what was the alternative? Could she really say no to his offer and condemn Samantha to financial uncertainty? Besides that, he was right. She’d be working for this money. No favors given, no favors asked.

“Well?”

She looked up. Dante was scowling. Obviously, he had none of her reservations about them being in close contact.

“I can’t spend the entire day at this, Taylor. I need an answer. Will you take the job or won’t you?”

She took a deep, steadying breath. “I’ll take it.”

Something flashed in his eyes. Triumph, she thought, but then it was gone, he was smiling politely and holding out his hand. She stared at it. Then, carefully, she extended her hand, too, felt his callused palm against hers as they shook hands.

“I want certain assurances,” she said quickly.

“We’ve already sealed the deal. But go ahead. I’ll try and accommodate you. What assurances do you want?”

“Our relationship will be strictly business.”

He didn’t say anything. His expression didn’t change. Was that agreement or was he waiting to hear more?

“Our meetings will occur in public places.”

“Such logical choices, cara. I’m impressed. Is that all?”

“No. It isn’t.” She folded her arms. “You’re not to call me that.”

“What? Cara?” He laughed. “You’re my employee. I’ll call you anything I like.”

“I’m not your employee. We’ll be working together. Either way, calling me cara would be improper.”

He smiled, and her heart rose into her throat because everything she’d feared about him, everything she’d adored about him, was in that smile.

“Ah. I understand now.” He cupped her elbows. Slowly, inexorably, he drew her closer. “You’re afraid our relationship will become personal.”

“It won’t,” she said stiffly. “How could it, when you’re the last man on earth I’d want to become personal with?”

“I used to call you cara when you were in my arms. When I was making love to you.”

Taylor’s breath caught. The sound of his voice at those moments. The feel of his hands on her breasts. The darkness of his eyes as he’d slipped his hands beneath her, as he entered her. Slowly, so slowly, until she cried out with pleasure at the feel of him deep, deep inside her…

“No,” she said, “I don’t remember. Why would I? It meant nothing. It meant—It meant—”

Dante stopped her lies with a kiss.

Fight him, she thought desperately, don’t let him do this to you.

But the terrible truth was, he was doing what she had dreamed of. What she ached for. She loved the feel of his mouth on hers. The scent of his skin. The way he moved his hands down her spine and lifted her against him so that his erection pressed against her belly.

“Kiss me back,” he said, his voice a rough command, and her treacherous body responded, her lips parted and when they did, he thrust his tongue into her mouth and she felt it happening as it always did, her breasts swelling, her bones melting, her body readying for his possession…

Her heart yearning for what he would never give her.

Tags: Sandra Marton Billionaire Romance
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