Page 33 of The Billionaire Invitation

“You’re all the dessert I need tonight.” He held her eyes, his own flashing with dark, delicious intent. “You know, the Crane has an excellent crème brûlée. We both know how much you enjoy room service.”

It would be so easy to lose herself in his grin. To lose herself in his confidence. But she wouldn’t allow herself to be lost. She would, however, allow him to take her to his room tonight. That suited her and her new rules just fine.

“Thank you,” Dante said when the waiter returned with the black book. As he was scribbling in the tip, her jaw dropped.

“How did you⁠—”

“Slipped him my card when he handed you the dessert menu. You didn’t seriously think I would let you pay, did you?”

“No.”

“I understand that to you, I’m surrounded by caution tape and blaring red sirens. Your nonprofit is my number-one priority. I’m not going to let it fail.”

“We won’t let it fail,” she amended.

“We.” He nodded. “Believe it or not, I need you. The press think I’m fame-starved and money-hungry. And that I show up for the publicity. Which I do. The publicity is what brings in the money. It’s a tricky game.”

“Who cares what they think? They don’t know you.” Dante wasn’t doing this for himself. Even when her defenses had gone up, and she’d asked him what was in it for him, she’d suspected that his focus had been on the greater good.

“And you do know me.” It wasn’t a question, but a confirmation. His eyes locked onto hers, creating an intimate bubble containing just them.

Knowing that his heart was in the right place, that he was doing things for the right reasons, made sleeping with him more risky. But the idea of not sleeping with him was too cruel to contemplate.

She would simply have to separate the fairy-tale version of him—in which he was more of a prince than a fairy anything—from the real-world him: the man who had chosen to walk away from her. And regardless of his reasoning, altruistic or not, he’d broken her heart.

She could do that. She lifted her wine glass. “To the greater good.”

“To the greater good.” He tapped her glass with his.

She took a final drink of her wine, threw caution to the wind, and said, “So, about that crème brûlée…”

His grin turned wicked. “Get your appetite back?”

“Turns out I have room after all.”

They left Villa Moneta, her hand in his. A brief warning flitted through her brain about getting in too deep too soon, or was it about her keeping her guard up?

She couldn’t be sure.

She hadn’t really been listening.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Honesty rolled over, her head on the pillow opposite him. Facing her across a mattress was far less alarming than it should have been. When he’d suggested they keep sleeping together, he had been equal parts shocked and thrilled that she’d agreed.

She tucked her hand beneath her cheek and blinked up at him. She’d been sated and breathing his name a few minutes ago—his favorite. While she looked relaxed lying there, Dante could tell by the spark in her eyes that “sated” was no longer what she was feeling.

Her physical beauty was undeniable. He was mentally kicking his ass for every moment he hadn’t appreciated her wavy dark hair, thick lashes or high cheekbones. And her breasts—forget about it. Sonnets had been written about them, he had no doubt.

“You look like you’re ready for that crème brûlée.” He narrowed his eyes. “Unless you’re looking at me like I’m crème brûlée. In which case, give me five minutes and I swear to God I’ll be ready.”

The dessert reference had been their ongoing joke since the last time they were in his penthouse. She’d mentioned chocolate cake that night. And tonight, after they’d come back to the Crane, he’d offered to sample her like dessert, and she had accepted.

Sliding his hands beneath her silken dress and finding her sweetest spot had been his second favorite part of the evening.

“I’m actually thinking about Eli,” she said.

He raised both eyebrows. “He’s married.”