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He thanked his housekeeper as she locked up for the night, then shrugged off his jacket and folded it over a nearby chair before climbing the stairs. To his surprise, the door to the main guest room was slightly open, a glow of golden light shining out onto the darkened hallway. She was still up.
He paused outside. He needed to press her further about Fiero... He had a feeling that there was something she wasn’t telling him. And it had nothing to do with wanting to ask her why she had kissed him back so passionately. Or the fact that the memory of the way her fingers had slid up through his hair refused to shift from his mind.
He knocked once on the door, opening it a little more, then froze as he took in the sight before him. Dani sat fully dressed on the chaise in the corner of the room, her tablet computer glowing on her lap but her head thrown back at an angle in peaceful sleep.
Guilt assailed him; she probably hadn’t got much sleep with all the dramatics the night before. She must have been exhausted and yet she hadn’t complained once.
She would ache in the morning if he left her in her current position
... He took a few steps closer, clearing his throat in case he startled her. ‘Dani...?’
She didn’t move. She looked as utterly composed in sleep as she did when she was awake—no snores escaped her lips, and even her legs were tucked perfectly to one side.
He gently tapped her shoulder, repeating her name once more. She was completely out.
Making a snap decision, he set her computer aside and lifted her from the chaise, depositing her gently on top of the bed. Her eyes drifted open, her hands moving up to touch his face.
‘You kissed me tonight...’ she slurred softly, eyes half closed.
‘I did,’ he said stiffly, removing her hands and pushing her down to the pillows so that he could pull up the bedcovers and leave.
‘I usually hate kissing,’ she mumbled. ‘But you’re really good at it.’
‘You’re not so bad yourself.’
‘It’s okay. I know I’m terrible. I’m awful at everything bedroom-related—it’s a curse of some sort.’ She made a sound halfway between a giggle and a hum.
Valerio froze, staring down at her as he processed her nonsensical words. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘My ex was very honest. Oh, wait—you’re supposed to take off my dress.’ She closed her eyes, raising her arms above her head. ‘I can’t sleep in it. Hermione will kill me.’
‘I draw the line at undressing unconscious women, even to save a designer dress.’
He’d gritted his teeth at her mention of her ex, but now he sucked in a breath as her hands began pulling at the hem of the dress and moving it upwards. He averted his eyes, steeling himself against the flash of delicious caramel skin in the lamplight. A tiny squeaking sound caught his attention, and he looked back to find her trapped inside a swathe of green fabric, her hands fumbling over her head.
Of course she wore no bra.
Cursing, Valerio pushed her hands away, then gently pulled the gown the rest of the way up over her shoulders and arms. The tension in his body mounted with the effort of trying not to notice the delicious curves revealed with every pull of the fabric. He averted his eyes as much as possible, fighting the flare of heat in his solar plexus at an unavoidable glimpse of a tiny pair of lacy red knickers.
Biting his bottom lip, he quickly covered her with the bedsheet and sat back, his breath coming fast, as if he’d just run a marathon. He was not any better for that three-second sight of her naked breasts. He imagined they would spill over his palms, perfect twin globes, with dusky tips just begging to be kissed. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, a fine sheen of sweat was forming on his brow, and his blood pressure was likely rising through the roof.
But then Dani sighed, and he couldn’t stop himself from looking down at her as she stretched out like a cat in sunshine. He had never seen her so still. The woman was a force of nature—always on the move. He wondered when she’d last taken a vacation, or even a day off.
He eased back, planning to slip out, but she opened her eyes again, narrowing them on him.
‘I want to kiss you again.’ She reached for him, her fingertips sloppily tracing the column of his throat where his shirt hung open.
‘I can’t tell if you’re drunk from too much champagne or overtiredness.’ He tried to ignore the rush of pleasure her words gave him, knowing that the sober Daniela would be mortified. ‘I need to go.’
‘Don’t leave me.’ She opened her eyes more fully, their whisky-gold depths suddenly shimmering. ‘Just lie here for a little while.’
Valerio felt the air in his lungs go cold at the vulnerability in her eyes. He had only ever seen her cry once, in the entire time they had known one another.
He sat back down on the bed, taking her hand in his and pressing her fingers to his lips. ‘I’ll stay a moment if you promise to sleep.’
Her eyes drifted closed and she sighed, the evidence of her sadness trailing from the corner of her eyes and down her cheeks. ‘Everyone always leaves...’ she whispered, half asleep.
Valerio felt something deep inside him crack at the pain in her words and he reached down to wipe the moisture from her cheek. He closed his eyes, inhaling once before looking down at her sleeping form. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
