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“Is it that good?” he asks.

I finish chewing and swallow. “Lasagne made in Italy? No. Horrible.”

Mason begins to laugh. “Tell me how good it is. I’ll live through you.”

“It’s delicious,” I say, taking another bite.

He stares at my plate with nothing but pure desire in his eyes. I begin to giggle.

“Mason?”

He shifts his attention to me. “Hmm?”

“Please stare at me later like you’re staring at that piece of lasagne.”

He laughs. “That depends. Are you going to tempt me like that lasagne is tempting me now?”

“Would you like me to tell you all the ways I can tempt you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Because if you start talking dirty to me, I won’t be interested in eating, and I have to finish this meal,” Mason says.

“All right, I’ll save the dirty talk for later.”

“Please keep that promise.”

“I will,” I say as I reach for the bread on the table and put a piece on my plate. “Anyway, you have to feel amazing about tomorrow’s race.”

Mason nods. “I do. But we know Xavier will launch hard, and your brother is a complete pain in the arse. I’ll be ready, though.”

“I won’t stay long tonight. You need your sleep.”

“No, I need you to stay,” Mason says, putting his hand on my thigh. “I slept so good when you were next to me last night.”

Warmth floods me as I hear his sweet words. I’m so falling for him.

“Well, it would be bad if I didn’t help you in all areas of preparation,” I flirt. “You know, like stamina and sleep.”

“Critical areas I need help with.”

“So it sounds imperative that I stay.”

“Yes.”

“Then I wouldn’t be doing my duty to support the family mission if I leave you. Therefore, I’ll sleep here. Looks like I’m going to become an expert in sneaking out of hotel rooms.”

Mason lifts his hand off my leg. “Thank you.”

Suddenly there’s a rap on the door. I drop my fork. Mason furrows his brow.

“Mase! Dinner check!” a male voice yells from the other side.

“Shit,” Mason says, quickly blotting his lips with a napkin. “That’s Jacques.”

“Your trainer?” I squeak. “He can’t see me here!”