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Indy melted into me and that felt natural too, like my body had been made to support hers. I slid my hands inside her jacket, running my fingers over her slender, cashmere-clad curves, longing to tug the ties that held her dress together and slip my hands onto her smooth skin. My hands spanned her small waist, traced over her rib cage, splayed on the delicate bones as they expanded with every gasping breath.
She looped her fingers through my hair, pulling me closer, her lemonade scent enveloping me. I’d felt lost for so long, but kissing Indy was like finding my way home. It felt as inevitable as the stars shifting in the sky, as the Earth spinning around the sun. Why had I resisted this for so long?
“Levi,” she murmured, and I pulled back enough to look into her dark eyes, glassy with desire and wonder. Mirroring, I imagined, my own.
“Indy.” I cupped her face and pressed my forehead to hers, catching my breath, waiting for the world to stop spinning.
“What took you so long?” She pressed back up on her toes and pulled me back to her. This time she took the lead, nipping at my bottom lip, stroking the back of my neck.
Vaguely I heard a rustling sound in the leaves behind us and Indy stiffened, her lips stilling against mine. Reluctantly, I released her. She straightened her dress and I plucked a small green leaf from her hair. In all our frantic kissing, we’d practically made a human-sized hole in the leafy wall of the labyrinth.
“Are you in here, D? You can come out now. The other team won.” Indy’s eyes went large and she shook her head at me. I shared her desire not to let on what we’d been up to Sabrina. All I needed was for her to be even more on my ass than usual.
“Coming!” Indy called in a falsely chipper voice. She glanced back at me, allowing me a second to take in her flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, and the enormity of what I’d just done hit me like a rush of cold air.
I couldn’t undo what I’d just done, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. But that kiss had changed everything like I always knew it would.
Chapter 21
Diana
I’d entered an alternate universe, one in which Levi desired me. One in which I wasn’t just Indy—his best friend’s little sister, an afterthought, another obligation.
This morning I’d sensed that the energy between us had shifted. Okay, I’d also sensed Levi’s hand on my boob and his erection poking me in the backside. I suppose as far as signs went, those were two pretty obvious indicators of desire.
If I closed my eyes, like I had done all morning, I could still fill his large, warm hand cupping me, his calloused fingertips skimming over my nipple. I’d dreamed of his touch so many times, but somehow even my wildest imaginings hadn’t prepared me for the electrifying pleasure of his hand on my naked breast, of his other hand between my legs. If only I’d worn some flimsy negligee or better yet, nothing at all. Maybe he wouldn’t have stopped.
And now he’d kissed me. Not because I’d begged him to and not because he was pretending, but because he wanted me.
I touched my fingertips to my still tingling lips as I rounded the corner of the maze. My feet barely touched the ground, I was gliding on a carpet of flowers, borne by a soft breeze and hope. Until I caught sight of Sabrina’s face, that is. Her expression of absolute disappointment would have put my Italian grandmother to shame.
She plucked a tiny green leaf from my hair. “What were you doing in there for so long?”
I shrugged. “Looking for the next envelope.”
“Okay, sure.”
“How about you and Pete? What’d you get up to in the woods?”
“Please, Pete is the last person I’d get freaky with in the woods. I’d do that old guy over there before Pete.” Sabrina gestured to man with a thin gray ponytail and burgundy velvet pants.
The man was speaking with Signore Visconti himself. After that kiss, how could I not believe the tides were turning in my favor? I had to seize the moment.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Sabrina.
Quick as lightning, I darted over to his side and addressed him in Italian. “Signore, may I speak with you for a moment?”
He blinked at me like he’d forgotten who I was. “Yes, of course, my dear.”
“I know you said you don’t wish to discuss work this weekend, but I would love to show you my research. It has to do with the cult of Catha . . .”
He raised a shaky hand to stop me. “Reginald has already mentioned this to me. He thinks you’re brilliant.”
My mouth hung open. “He does?”
“Yes, why else would he have taken you on?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I threw a hateful glance at Pete, who had led me to believe that Professor Harris hired his graduate assistants based on his own hotness scale and the probability that they’d sleep with him.
