He’s breathing hard. “Where did you learn to fuckingkisslike that, Amelie Thibodeaux?”
I almost feel shy admitting it.Shy, but hot and wet and horny as all hell.“Nowhere. That was my first kiss.”
His head tilts slightly. “What do you mean?”
It’s a little embarrassing. “I know, crazy, right? I mean, who waits this long? Just us desperate hotel heiresses who don’t have what it takes to keep things above water,” I joke, trying to keep the tragedies of my past as upbeat as I’mcapable of. “I was just busy, with everything that was going on.”
“Don’t ever say that.”
“Say what?”
Dallas runs his thumb along my cheekbone. “Amelie, none of what went on with the hotel was your fault. It was the fault of the people who didn’t do the right thing by you and who didn’t protect you or your interests. You could have saved the hotel if they hadn’t undermined all your hard work.”
Wow, he must have googledeverything. And his words might actually be the most perceptive—and maybe even the kindest—anyone’s ever said to me. “I know.” I give an offhanded shrug. “But it hardly matters now either way.”
“Of course it matters.” He sounds pissed off about it. “You did everything you could have done. None of it is your fault.”
“Maybe not. But it still shapes what my life has become.”
“Your life is what you make of it. Look at you now. So beautiful it literally fucking hurts. And flying high.”
I look out over the city. “Flying high for one day, yes. And I’ll take it. But it’s only one day.”
“Do you want to know something?”
“What?”
His playfulness and his sincerity have a dark intensity behind them.
“Tell me, Dally.”
His expression is almost shockingly heartfelt, like helovesit when I call him his old nickname. Like something about the sound of it hits him right where he lives. “It’s going to be more than one day. And I want you to know that I’m not that person.”
“What person?”
“A person who betrays you. I’ll protect you. I’ll take care of you.”
Did he just say what I think he said? How am I supposed to respond to that? A perfect stranger is promising me things my own father was never capable of. My father loved me, I know he did.But not enough.He never once thought to live his life in a way that factoredmeinto any of the consequences of his actions. I couldn’t trust him to do that. And I have to live with the reality of that fact every single day. Whichhurts, more than I’d like to admit.
He let me down. Because he didn’t love me enough to live up to making sure I was okay. Because maybe I’m just not worthy of that kind of love. My mother was worthy of it, but not me.
All my old scars are burning me.
I shove those old thoughts out of my mind. It’s not the time or the place to wallow in self-pity.
What’s outrageous is that Dallas Wilder seems to expect me to believe him.I’ll protect you? I’ll take care of you?They’re nice sentiments, sure, but asking me to blindly trust him with pronouncements like that is just wildly unrealistic. It’s not the way the world works. “Uh, thanks,” I say anyway.
He drags his palm along his square jaw. “So when you say that was your first kiss … you’ve never …?”
I know what he’s asking. “No,” I confirm, almost shyly. “I’m completely inexperienced. With everything.”
“Everything.”
“Yes. Everything. I’ve never kissed anyone, been with anyone or done anything else with anyone.”
Dallas gets this sexy little crinkle between his eyebrows. He gives me a look of disbelief that’s both hopeful and wildly relieved, maybe. He lets his head fall back against the headrest for a second. Then he gives me the hint of that killer smile and I make a decision.I want it to be him, now. Today. Tonight.“You mean to tell me the sweetest, hottest little bartender in all of New Orleans is as pure as the driven snow?”
It sounds even more embarrassing when he says it like that. I’m not exactly proud of it, but it is what it is. My reply comes out sounding surly. “Only because I couldn’t find anyone Iwantedto kiss.”
