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“You, too. Come on in.”
I stepped aside, and Cesare bent down to give me a kiss on the cheek. Then somehow he squeezed his huge frame past me, leaving the flowers in my arms.
“Thanks,” I said. God, my conversation skills were rusty. But they’d been okay—for the most part—last night, so maybe once we got settled in, things would get easier. Or possibly once the wine started flowing.
Cesare came to a halt in the small living room, looking around. “Nice place.”
“Small place,” I corrected. The top of his head was inches away from the ceiling. “I’m not sure I’ve ever had someone as big as you in here.”
His eyes met mine. “Does that bother you? My size?”
“No,” I said quickly. A little too quickly.
“I intimidate some women,” he said.
I had to give a small laugh at that. “You look like you’d intimidate some armies.”
He grinned. “Only when I need to.”
I took a breath and tried to gather my thoughts. “So no, your size doesn’t intimidate me.”
Cesare moved closer. Today he actually had on black trousers, not jeans. They weren’t exactly ready for a board meeting, but they were a step up from yesterday. His shirt was a button-down again, this time navy blue. “Does my size excite you?”
Oh crap. That was a really direct question. But Cesare held my gaze, and I knew I couldn’t lie to him. “Sometimes.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I hope you’ll let me know when those times are.”
“I’ll put the flowers in a vase,” I blurted out in a very clear attempt to change the subject. I hurried to the kitchen sink, putting the small counter between us, but he followed me. If he’d looked oversized in the living room, he looked positively humongous in the tiny kitchenette.
He stepped to my side, watching as I filled a vase with water. Then assisting when my hands shook too badly to slide the rubber band off the stems of the lilies.
“Do your hands shake this badly when you put in an IV?” he asked with a note of humor in his voice.
“No.” On that point, I was certain. “These are really nice.” Most of my attention was on Cesare’s nearness, but in the back of my mind, I couldn’t remember the last time a man had brought me flowers. The guys I’d dated in the last few years, the wishy-washy ones who couldn’t make a decision to save their lives, hadn’t been very good at that kind of thing.
Now that the flowers were in the vase, I made a half-hearted attempt to arrange them. Cesare watched me for a moment and then palmed the vase with one large hand. He reached back and set it on the small refrigerator. I’d been planning to keep them on the counter, but Cesare had other ideas for that space.
He grasped my waist and set me on the counter in front of him, as easily as he’d moved the vase—and I was damn sure that I weighed a whole lot more than the lilies.
Cesare pressed forward, and I swung my knees to the side. The dress was too tight to part them even though some wanton instinct deep inside of me wanted to do just that. He placed a palm on the counter on either side of me. His face was inches above mine.
Hismouthwas inches above mine.
“What are we having for dinner, Piper?” His voice was low and husky.
With him so close, it was hard to think. “I ordered some delivery. It should be here in about ten minutes.”
His eyes were on my lips. “I think I need an appetizer.”
Panic filled me as I thought about the contents of my half-sized fridge. It had been a while since I’d had time to hit up a grocery store. “I think I have some cheese and crackers—”
“That’s not what I want to taste.”
His meaning became clear as he dipped his head, nuzzling his nose against mine. My body stayed tense, but I closed my eyes and inhaled his scent. He smelled good. I wasn’t an expert on men’s colognes or aftershave, but I liked it, whatever it was. And I liked how the heat from his skin radiated against mine.
I linked my wrists around his neck, just like I had at the hospital, and his hands went around my back. Then his mouth was on mine, and this time, I could fully enjoy it. There were no bad men at the door. There was no wounded patient next to us. It was just Cesare and me.
And god, he tasted good. Even better than his masculine scent. He knew how to kiss, and he didn’t hesitate. My back arched as my lips parted, letting him in. Letting him taste me—and tease me.
