“You are either very serious or joking around. Is there ever a middle ground?”
She’d never really thought that much about it. “Of course. See, I’m not making any jokes now.”
“And you’re also being serious. You’re wondering if I’m right.”
Her lips pursed together. Did Dante see something that she’d been missing all along? And was he right?
He stepped closer. “If you control the conversation then nothing slips out—those little pieces of your life that let a person really know you. You can then keep everyone at a safe distance.”
Her gaze narrowed in on him. “Since when have you become such an expert on me?”
“I’m good at reading people. And you intrigue me.”
Any other time she might have enjoyed the fact that she intrigued a man but not now. Not when he could see aspects of her that made her uncomfortable.
“Are you trying to tell me that you’re a mind reader—no, wait, maybe a fortune-teller? I can see you now with a colorful turban, staring into a glass ball.” She forced a smile, hoping to lighten the conversation.
“And there you go with the jokes. My point is proven.”
He was right. Drat. She’d never thought about how she’d learned to shield herself from other people. When conversations got too close, too personal, she turned them around with a joke. Anything to get the spotlight off herself.
After all this time of putting up defensive postures, she didn’t know if she could let down those protective walls and just be—especially around a man who could make her heart race with just a look. But something within her wanted things to be different with Dante. It was lonely always pushing people away.
“I’m just me.” She didn’t know how to be anyone else. “I’m sorry if that doesn’t live up to your idea of the perfect woman.”
He stepped closer to her. It’d be so easy to reach out to him—to lean into his arms and forget about the world for just a moment. Every fiber of her body wanted to throw herself into his arms and feel his lips against hers.
“Lizzie, you don’t have to be perfect.” His voice was soft and comforting. “You just have to be honest with yourself and realize that not everyone is out to hurt you. I won’t hurt you.”
Hearing those last four words was like having a bucket of ice water dumped over her head. Her ex had said the same thing to her to get her into bed. But when opportunity came knocking on his door, she was relegated to nothing more than an afterthought. He couldn’t wait to leave New York—to leave her. The realization of how little he’d cared for her cut deep.
She wasn’t going to fall for those words again.
She stepped back out of Dante’s reach.
His dark gaze stared straight at her as though searching for answers to his unspoken questions.
When his gaze dipped to her lips, the breath hitched in her throat. What was he going to do? He’d promised not to kiss her until she asked him to. Would he keep that promise?
Factions warred within her. One wanted to remain safe. The other part wanted to sweep caution aside and lean into his arms. Was it possible that being safe wasn’t always the best choice? Was a chance at happiness worth the inherent risks?
Dante cleared his throat. “You better go upstairs now.” His voice was deeper than normal and rumbled with emotion. “If you don’t, I might end up breaking my word. And a DeFiore never goes back on his word.”
She turned on legs that felt like rubber and headed for the door. The warm night air did nothing to soothe her heated emotions. She needed a shower to relax her or she’d never get any sleep tonight. And Dante was worried the coffee would be stimulating. It was nothing compared to his presence.
It was
on the elevator ride upstairs that she realized if he had reached out to her, she wouldn’t have resisted. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He didn’t have to say the words. It was all there in his eyes. The need. The want. The desire.
Sleep was not something that was going to come easily that night.
* * *
What was wrong with him?
Dante got up from the desk in his study and strode to the window. The lights from the city obscured the stars, but he knew they were there, just like he knew there was something growing between him and Lizzie. He couldn’t touch it. He couldn’t see it. But there was definitely something real growing between them.
She’d appeared in his life out of nowhere. At every turn, she challenged everything he believed he wanted in life. But above and beyond all of that, she brought the “fun factor” back to his life. He enjoyed sharing the kitchen with her. He even went to bed each night anticipating the next morning. What was it about Lizzie that had him feeling things that he’d never experienced before?