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Her face tilts up towards mine, close enough that it would be so easy to close the distance and brush my lips against hers. "Are we dancing, or aren't we, Dickhead?"
I laugh because this is a strange form of torture—having her so close and yet so determined to gloss over the energy buzzing wherever we touch. Maybe I like torture, though…when it comes from Giulia.
Realizing I had stopped swaying, I lead mynot-datedate into a waltz, guiding her through the few other couples dancing. She follows easily, naturally picking up on where I want to go and when I want to spin her. There's something very satisfying about the fact that she's not putting up a stubborn fight right now—and it's all the better because the next time I spin her out and back, she's closer than she was before. Close enough that her front is pressed against my chest, and I can feel her breath catch.
I bite back a groan when Giulia presses slightly more against me, eyes flicking up to meet mine. Her eyelashes feather against her cheek when her attention drops to my lips briefly.
Then she tries to step back, but I slip my arm around her back, keeping her soft curves pressed against me.
She swallows before whispering, "You're a Giovanni."
I lean closer, brushing my cheek against hers because this attraction between us is nearly palpable, and I'm achingly hard. She smells like spiced vanilla, and it makes my mouth water. I bet she tastes incredible.
"How observant," I murmur. "You're a Russo. See, two can play at that game."
It feels really fucking good to hold her this close, and all I can think about is her body swaying in time with mine. The pull I feel toward her is intense. I've never been one to put up much fight against my impulses, and at the moment, they're telling me to kiss her senseless here and now on this dance floor.
But that would drive my beautiful little challenge away, and I don’t want that. This stalemate between our families excites me far more than it did before because it means that while we're both working as representatives for this newVitalendeal, I'll get to keep Giulia trapped in close proximity with me.
Sooner or later, she's bound to warm up to me, and then she'll see through her family's old ways. Then maybe she'll let herself ignite for me the way I already know I'm starting to burn for her.
Onlymaybe, though—she's clearly stubborn as hell. Already, I can sense that her guard is coming back up.
"I meant we can't do this."
I lean in close, my skin heating at the feel of her slight shudder, and whisper, "Do what? We're only dancing, Giulia Russo…but if you wanted to do more, you only have to ask."
Chapter 7
Giulia
Rightnow,Ireallywish I was dancing with Craig. Or Kurt. Or whatever his name was.
Because if it was anyone else, I could tune out and metaphorically keep my distance. I'd feel entirely in control. I wouldn't be taken off guard by my pounding pulse, flushed skin, and how my nipples have perked right up. I'm worried he will notice them under my layers as our chests brush while he holds me close.
Or maybe I want him to notice…
No! Damn Roberto Giovanni for throwing me off this way, the crafty bastard. I absolutely will not stand for this, especially not with him whispering things in my ear and making my breath catch. There's only one thing to be done in this unexpected situation.
Make your intentions clear.
A negotiation tactic that I really should have turned to sooner because the dashing, troublemaking son of my family's sworn enemy is makinghisintentions clear as day, partially by means of a very hard bulgethat I can feel through his pants since he's holding me so close.
It's making it very difficult to think clearly.
All of his proximity is. I hate that Roberto's ten times better at dancing than any of the guys I've gone on lousy dates with. He moves with an unstudied grace, and how our bodies naturally fit together on this dance floor is practically criminal. I've mostly kept my calm exterior in place but under the surface? I'm about to lose it—either by kneeing him in the balls again so I can run away from this tension or throwing myself at him to get a taste of that wicked smile, he keeps gifting me.
Intentions. Time to demonstrate them, Giulia.
Annoyed by how attracted I am to this mafioso and how easily he affects me, I grasp Roberto's arm and break our sensual swaying, dragging him back to the same hall where I left him doubled over last time. God knows that might be about to happen again.
I just need to face this head-on. I need to establish crystal-clear boundaries.
Possibly more for myself than for Roberto, if I'm honest.
Once we're alone in the dimness, I shove Roberto hard until his back is against a wall. He exhales sharply, dark eyes intent on me and his low voice as breathless as I feel.
"Fuck, that's hot. When is it my turn to push you up against the wall?"
