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Domenico wasn’t amused. “That was fucking lame.”
She ignored that. “So, umm, can I tell you a joke now?”
He shrugged.
But he was also still a little pale, so Misty hurriedly said, “One day, a first-grade math teacher thought about giving her kids an oral quiz...”
‘What do you have when you combine 16 books with 28 books, Matthew?’ the teacher asked.
‘Forty-four books,’ Matthew promptly answered.
‘Correct.’ The teacher moved on to the next student. ‘Sara, what do you get when you have 68 books and 79 books together?’
Sara paused before answering, ‘147 books.’
‘That’s great, Sara.’ The teacher moved to the third student, who had been napping the whole time. ‘Joe, wake up.’
‘Huh?’
The teacher scowled. ‘What do you get when you have 356 books and 293 books together?’
Joe answered sleepily, ‘A library?’
Domenico felt a grin tugging at his lips when Misty actually burst into peals of laughter at her own joke.
When Misty caught the grin on Domenico’s face, she asked eagerly, “You’re okay now? You’re no longer claustrophobic?” As soon as the words slipped past her lips, she knew she had said the wrong thing.
She held her breath, waiting...
But the explosion didn’t come.
She peeked at his face.
Domenico’s thin, beautiful lips had curved into a self-deprecating smile.
“You’re not mad?”
Slowly, Domenico shook his head. “No. I’m not.” The elevator still felt like it was shrinking to him, but he didn’t feel as...cramped as he had been feeling earlier, and he knew the reason behind that. He looked at Misty and found himself admitting to her something he rarely spoke about. “I’m claustrophobic.” Misty nodded, and Domenico privately gave her props for trying to look like she had just discovered that about him.
“It’s a not entirely cured trauma after being kidnapped.” He unbuttoned the first button of his shirt, hoping it would make him feel less like he was being strangled by the hot air around him.
Misty didn’t have to pretend she was shocked. “You were kidnapped?” In their world, Domenico hadn’t ever been abducted – or at least not that she knew of.
“Part and parcel of being a Moretti,” Domenico dismissed. “It’s a long story, but the gist of it is that my brother managed to save me. However, in the minutes that I was locked inside the trunk of the kidnappers’ car—-” He stopped speaking abruptly, the weight of the memories making him feel like he was a helpless boy again.
“Owwwwww!”
The cry snatched him back to the present, and Domenico saw his curvy companion taking off her heels.
“I...t-think...I had some kind of sprain...I’m not used to wearing heels like this...” She looked up at Domenico. “D-do you think we could sit on the floor?”
Misty knew she was a shabby actress, but she had to try. The look on Domenico’s face worried her, but she knew mentioning how pale he looked would only have him stubbornly refusing her plea for him to sit on the floor.
“Of course.” Domenico took a seat beside Misty, and after stretching his legs, he told her casually, “You’re a bad actress, by the way.”
Shick. But out loud, she said primly, “I have no idea what you mean, sir.”
He raised a brow. “Sir?”
“Did I also forget to mention the fact that I work for your family?”
Her sheepish smile enchanted him. “Yes. You did. Does that mean you’ll do everything I want?”
She almost said no before she remembered something—-
Domenico, telling her that her “vajayjay” was the first thing he noticed about her.
Did that mean she should make the moves on him this time? But...she had never tried to seduce anyone. She had no idea where or how to start—-
“Misty?”
She cleared her throat.
The serious look on her face sent a wave of disappointment crashing over him. That was in no way the look of a girl who was planning to come on to him. He knew she was no gold-digger or slut – Domenico could smell their type miles away – but he had been hoping all the same that he would have a chance to taste Misty’s sweet, succulent breasts.
Domenico, you better mean what you said, Misty thought.
Dark eyes met green. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate—-”
Domenico let out a low, choking laugh. “Misty...” He shook his head. No one was like her. No one. Laughter was said to be the best medicine. He had never believed that, but now that this beautiful girl had actually managed to make him laugh his claustrophobia away, he damn well believed it. Only this girl would make a line from an animated movie sound so fucking suggestive, and he didn’t know whether the fact impressed or amused him more.
“Are you saying what I think you mean?”
She asked huskily, “What I mean is – what can I do to ease your pain?”
One moment they were just staring at each other’s eyes.
The next thing she knew he had dragged her onto his lap, his fingers digging through her hair. “Like this,” he growled just before pulling her head down for a hungry kiss.
