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He fucking kissed me.Worse, I kissed him back.
His lips felt as soft as the snow falling outside the windows as his tongue coaxed my lips open. I don’t know what I expected from him. Hard and fast? Demanding? Rough? This was none of those things.
He released my wrist and wrapped his arm around my waist. His other hand remained on my nape, as if he feared if he let go, I’d pull away from him. I wouldn’t have.
I raised the same hand I’d intended to slap him with and weaved my fingers in his hair. It was softer than it looked. Almost silky.
I wondered if he made love the same way he kissed; the fleeting thought had me clenching my thighs. His hand slid down to my arse, and he cupped it, pulling my sex closer to his hardness. He pressed against me, and I whimpered.
With it, he broke the kiss and dropped his hands.
I took a step back, mortified, humiliated, and more embarrassed than I’d ever felt in my life. So I turned my back to him.
“Verity.”
“Don’t,” I said. When he put his hand on my shoulder, I shrugged it off.
“Ver, look at me.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what that was, but it can never happen again.” I walked around him, avoiding his gaze, and retrieved my computer.
“Youaren’tleaving.”
I glared at him.
“At least hear me out.”
“It’s a wonder you can talk with how busy your mouth has been tonight.” God, that sounded stupid. Why had I said anything at all with my brain—and body—still reeling from that kiss? I sat on the sofa but didn’t open my computer.
“Will you listen?”
I nodded but looked out the window. Snow still fell, the candles flickered, and the wood in the fireplace crackled. This place was so beautiful. I hated the idea of leaving it so soon. When it growled, I pressed a hand against my stomach.
Zeppelin approached and held out his hand. “You can listen and eat at the same time.”
If I wasn’t so famished, I would’ve ignored him. Which, actually, was still an option. I got up without taking his hand, but I did take the seat when he pulled out one of the chairs.
The plate in front of me was empty, but there were four silver domes on the table. Zeppelin removed them one by one. “Beef tartare, spätzle—my personal favorite—and raclette.”
I reached over and grabbed a cornichon.
“I think this one is dessert,” he said, pointing to the final silver dome.
He went to get the two bottles of wine that had been delivered with our meal. One white, one red. “Do you fancy a Riesling or Pinot Noir?”
“Both, please.”
He smiled and looked for glasses. When he found four in the cupboard and poured us both a glass of each, I wanted to smile, to thank him, but I was still too shell-shocked from the kiss.
“Let’s start with Schön?—”
“What’s between you is none of my concern.”
Zeppelin sighed. “How can you say that after…” He looked down and shook his head. “Anyway, when I heard a knock, I assumed dinner was being delivered. I opened the door to find Schön instead. She swept past me before I could tell her it wasn’t a good time.”
I grabbed a second cornichon, took a sip of the Riesling, and coughed. Terrible idea. Off-dry wine coupled with the sour of the gherkin was horrid.
“Here,” Zep said, handing me a basket of bread.
