I keep my hands busy, stacking documents that don’t need stacking, and force my voice into something light and professional. “He keeps me on my toes. You saw that firsthand today.”
Valentino does not reply right away. The silence feels heavy with everything unsaid. I risk a glance at him and find those dark eyes narrowed slightly, calculating.
He knows something feels off.
The way Nico stared at him, the easy way they spoke, the way my body locked up when Nico asked about the tattoo. He notices everything. That’s what terrifies me most.
Before I can form another thought, he steps closer to the table. Too close.
I become aware of everything at once. The expensive clean scent of his cologne. His intense gray eyes. The warmthradiating from him as he braces one hand against the edge of the conference table beside me.
I stop breathing properly.
His voice lowers. “You got nervous when you mentioned your son.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
I straighten another useless stack of papers and force out a small laugh. “You’re reading far too much into a normal conversation.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
His eyes hold mine. Patient. Completely unconvinced.
I should step back.
Instead, I stay exactly where I am while he moves another fraction closer, close enough now that I have to tilt my head slightly to keep looking at him.
The room suddenly feels too warm. My breathing turns uneven before I can stop it.
His gaze drops straight to my mouth and that singular action is enough to cause every nerve ending in my body to spark awake at once.
I forget the papers. Forget the office. Forget every intelligent thought I have ever had.
Valentino’s expression changes almost imperceptibly, something darker slipping beneath the controlled surface he wears so well.
His eyes flick to my neck and back to my eyes. “Now what do we do about this?”
I know what he means bythis. This attraction that gets worse every time he's close.
I open my mouth, but absolutely nothing coherent emerges.
“Mm…I, that’s probably…”
Brilliant.
Heat floods my face so fast it burns. I take one horrified step backward, nearly catching the edge of the chair with my heel.
“I should go.” The words come out squeaky.
Valentino watches me carefully, still leaning against the table, still entirely too calm for a man who just dismantled my nervous system with one sentence.
“Livia.”
I cannot survive him saying my name in that tone again.
