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I look down at the dog then back up to Sergio. I bite my lip and reply in a little voice, “Icouldtell you that, but you… don’t want me to lie to you.”
He curses again.
“Just in my room. I mean, of course I won’t let him go into the kitchen or anywhere else. I have a private bath and could scrub him up nicely and thanks to your generosity, I have enough money I could buy things he needs, too…”
Do I need to ask him permission? Why do I feel like I have to? My heart squeezes when the little dog thumps his tail against my leg.
I would love him. I want to love someone. I’m so lonely I could cry.
“There are regulations about animals in establishments that serve wine and have—” he pauses. “Food.”
That’s not what he was going to say.
What was he going to say?
If that didn’t spike my curiosity about the nature of his club…
But I have to convince him.
“Well, the rooms are basically hotel rooms, and surely some people bring their dogs with them when they’re traveling, don’t they?”
That earns me a grunt. Should I take that as him softening?
It unnerves me how easily he makes me all flustered and breathy. I’ve never been around a man like him before, but… it’s so much more than that. My instincts tell me to be careful, that I’m allowing myself to be attracted to another man.
As a married woman, it would be sinful if I were to…
Look up at him from beneath lowered lashes… like I am right now.
Step closer to him.
Like I am right now.
Allow my gaze to linger and appreciate how strong his arms are with those rolled-up sleeves, how impeccably his clothes cling to his body, emphasizing how perfectly masculine and muscled he is…
Like I am right now.
Plead with him, like I’m about to.
“Please?” I say in a whisper of a voice. “May I?”
For one flash of a second—so quickly, I almost miss it—I see his eyes flare with intensity and heat, before he quickly schools his expression. It’d be a sin to cause him to stumble, but something tells me—it would be worth it.
“Fine,” he says in a low, measured tone. “But if I see this dog outside of your room, I’ll—”
He pauses as if he doesn’t want to complete the sentence.
I want him to.
I want to hear what he would do.
When Seth threatened me, I would cower in fear, but there’s something about Sergio…
“I promise,” I say, my heart soaring. “You won’t.”
The back door of the club opens.
Sergio and I spring apart as if we were doing something untoward. Mario walks out, ambling in his signature swagger, and eyes the little pup by my feet.
