Page 134 of Lorenzo

He catches my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"Donatella."

"Don't call me that," I spit out.

His voice is firm. "Don't shut me out now," he warns.

"This was a mistake," I say, shaking my head to dislodge his hand.

"Why?" he asks, his thumb stroking my jaw, apparently undeterred.

"This is unprofessional."

He laughs. "Yes. This is the definition of unprofessional. Then again, you are no longer on my payroll, remember? Also, aren't you self-employed?"

"Yes," I say, and this time, I have the strength to push him back an inch or two. Although I suspect he let me do so. "And my own rules state that I do not sleep with clients."

"It seems to me we have two problems with your logic," he says, stepping back to watch me look for my sweater, which has apparently disappeared completely. "First, as I've already pointed out, you're not working for me anymore. And second, we haven't slept together."

I finally spot my sweater on top of the fridge. God...

I stalk towards it, feeling him watching my every move.

"Yet," he adds.

I whirl around. "This was a one-time thing."

"I would say it was only half. We didn't actually do much."

"Technicalities," I say and turn back to the fridge when his eyes drop to my breasts again.

Damn him. I'm wet again. Very wet. And he definitely knows it, if that smug look on his face is anything to go by.

"I don't consider technicalities,” he says. “So, I have an idea."

I yank my sweater over my head and turn back to him. He's leaning back against the counter, with one of the glasses of wine in his hand.

He takes a slow sip, and I watch him swallow it, slowly.

It is... mesmerizing.

I am in so much trouble.

"Mm," he says. "I was right. This is better if you let it breathe a little. Anyway, since I don't consider technicalities, I'm thinking we should just go ahead and sleep together. That way we can be absolutely sure, and then you can put your ban into place. With some justification, at least."

He is insane.

"That's the most insane thing I've ever heard," I say, shaking my head.

"Really? I'm usually very logical. Ask anyone."

He's smiling now. A knowing smile that says he knows exactly how I'm feeling and how bad I want it.

And he's right, which is even more annoying.

He's so... infuriating.

So hot.