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“Then we’ll make an agreement. If you’ll flirt with me, I’ll do my best to charm you.”
I laughed. “You already have, in your own arrogant, oh-so-special, domineering way. Why are you so hung up on me flirting with you? I thought you didn’t like to be teased.”
The look in his eyes pulled me into him even deeper. How could this man ensnare me with just the intensity of his eyes?
“I don’t like to be teased because it’s superficial. It’s a promise of something that won’t be delivered.”
I didn’t need to finish my coffee. His touch awoke my entire body when his thumb traced my lower lip.
“But you’re different.”
I tilted my head to study him even while his thumb stayed where it was. “How so?”
“Because I think I’d like it if you flirted with me. I know you.” His voice dropped, pulling on that sexy, husky note he used so well. “If you flirted with me, I’d know you meant it.”
I felt the blush start low and spread across my face in seconds. My eyes fell, but he forced me to meet his gaze when he tipped my chin up with his index finger.
His eyes searched mine. “I love the way you blush when I talk to you. If you’re not hungry, breakfast can wait.”
“I’m not hungry.”
My breath hitched when he pulled my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the pads of my fingers.
“Come.” He stretched his hand out and pulled me towards the hallway.
“Where are we going?”
“To take a shower.”
He tugged me into following him. I fought my nerves. This was something new. Something I had wanted to do while we were aboard the yacht, but Dante never indicated that he was interested in sharing a shower. He was usually gone by the time I woke up in the morning.
Taking my hand, he pulled me through his bedroom and into the master bath. Dante’s townhome didn’t exhibit any of the opulence of theMary Theresabut was still elegant in an understated way. The master ensuite was another exhibition in monochromes. Black and white tile. White with gray swirl marble countertops with the same marble floor to ceiling in the walk-in shower.
Dante closed the door behind us. Hooking his fingers under the hem of my cable knit sweater, he pulled me toward him. “You look nervous.”
“Unfamiliar territory,” I replied.
Nodding, he told me to put my hands up, then he pulled the sweater over my head.
“Another first,” he said as he continued to undress me by rolling off my jeans.
Everywhere he touched me my body screamed, but these touches were different than what I was used to from him. He was gentle, removing my bra slowly, and he surprised me when he dropped to his knees. He nuzzled my stomach before slipping his fingers under the edge of my panties and lowering them. I put my hand on his shoulder to step out of them.
When he stood up, he gathered all my clothes and tossed them into a hamper near the shower.
He stood there looking at me with yet another unreadable expression on his face. Never having showered with a man, I didn’t know what to expect. Dante’s hesitation told me that perhaps he was feeling the same way.
“Would you believe me if I said I’d never done this before either?” he said quietly as he reached into the shower to start the water. He looked at me over his shoulder, then turned away again to stick his hand into the steamy stream to test the water.
I took a step forward, torn between my own awkwardness and a desire to make it easier on him. This awkward man in front of me was another side of Dante that I never thought I’d meet. He was always so confident and sure of himself, cocky even. And while he still exuded strength and masculinity, this timid side of him brought out a confidence I didn’t know I had.
“I would,” I said as I reached out to pull on his black tee shirt. When I started to raise it over his head, he had to help me because I couldn’t quite get it right, tangling up the shirt when I had to rise up on my toes to get it over his head.
We smiled at each other as the shirt hit the floor. My eyes roved over his chest, glancing over lean muscles and following the trail of hair to his waistline. I reached for the waistline of pants, confident in knowing the reaction I would get. We’d done this dance before. Dante’s stomach muscles clenched, and he sucked in a breath when my nails scored his stomach. His pants were tied loosely so I quickly undid the knot, slid my fingers along the elastic waist and tugged. Dante took over from there, pulling them completely off and tossing them into the hamper as well.
Without a word, he stepped into the shower then extended his hand for me to join him. It seemed his hesitation was over. He stood in front of me, taking the brunt of the hot water before moving around behind me. The hot stream was a balm on my aching, tired body, bringing to the forefront just how uncomfortable my night had been.
Reaching around me, Dante grabbed some body wash and a washcloth that sat with it on the ledge. Lathering up, he covered my body head to toe and back to front in a soapy massage that had me quivering, but it was almost too much. My body was tired, and my mind was still exhausted from yesterday’s journey into the past. If his hands meant to entice, they failed. The pressure of his strong hands molding my body aroused but relaxed me at the same time.
