His heated gaze bores into mine, marking me, branding me, leaving an imprint on my soul. It’s like he’s taking my clothes off, tearing the dress from my body, so he can have his way with me.
Yes, please.
My heart is pounding so hard, I swear it’s going to burst through my chest. All the blood rushes through my body like a torpedo navigating straight to my lady parts.
Good God.
Chapter 9
Rhett
Rein in your eagerness, Sullivan.
I might have come on too strong, so I let go of her hand and remember common courtesy.
“I’m sorry, but your beautiful blue eyes—”and your divine body— “make me forget all my manners. Ma would be disappointed in me ‘cause she raised me better than that.”
She blushes.
“I’m Rhett Sullivan,” I say, extending my hand.
“I’m Carina Callahan,” she says, shaking it.
Carina?
Pretty name for a pretty girl.
“Your first name is unique.”
“It is. I blame my nonnas.” She lets out a girlish laugh.
I knit my eyebrows in confusion. “Your what?”
“Sorry. My grandmothers. Both Nonna Ludovica—my maternal grandmother—and Nonna Ambrosia—my paternal grandmother—are from northern Italy.”
“I see. Are your grandfathers Italian as well?”
“My grandfathers are both American of Irish decent. It makes me unique, I think,” she says with a tinge of pride.
“What an unusual coincidence?”
“I know.”
“So, your first name is Italian?”
“It is.”
“Does it mean anything?”
“It’s a term of endearment.”
“Really? Which one?”
“It’s silly.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
She offers a one-shoulder shrug. “It means, little darling.”
