The man I’m dancing with—the CEO of some company I can’t remember the name of—spins me outward. Laughing, I wind back into him and he grabs my hand, continuing to lead. He’s a nice guy, one of thefew I’ve danced with tonight who hasn’t tried to woo me into going on a date. When we turn back in the direction of where Sly is sitting, I immediately find him again.
Subtly, he meets my gaze, then drags his eyes from me, looking to the far door of the ballroom, then back to me.
A smile overtakes my face before I force it down, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip as I look away.
“It’s been lovely to dance with you tonight, Miss Paladino,” the man I’m dancing with says, drawing my attention back to him. The song is in its final chords, and we’re slowing along with it.
“Thank you for asking me to.” I’m polite, but all I want to do is bolt to the exit.
Sneaking yet another glance to the table that Sly has occupied all evening, I notice he’s gone.
The man in front of me bows low and kisses my hand before walking away. I do the same, spinning on my heel and crossing the dance floor.
“Miss Paladino!” An older man steps through the crowd, greeting me with an awkward wave. “May I have this dance?”
“Perhaps the next one, I was just one my way to the ladies’ room.”
“Oh! Of course, of course. I’ll seek you out shortly.”
Wonderful, you do that,I think to myself as I weave my way through the tables.
As soon as I step through the threshold and into thelarge lobby of the building, the air changes. What was once warm and slightly humid from all the bodies in such close proximity is now cool and still.
Nearby voices echo against the marble flooring, so I begin to walk in the opposite direction. My heels clicking with every step, the sound ricocheting from the walls.
It’s quiet in this secluded area of the venue, with abstract paintings at least six-feet high lining the walls. Although the lighting is dim, I stop to admire them, not sure what else to do while I wait for Sly.
It’s only another few moments before the deep, smooth timbre of his voice sends a wave of tingles down my spine.
“I underestimated how difficult it would be to keep my eyes off you tonight, piccola ladra.” He stops right behind me, only leaving a sliver of distance between us. “How much of a challenge it would be to not touch you.” Brushing my hair away from my cheek, his fingertips graze my neck. “How badly I want to rip the hands off every man who has had the opportunity to dance with you, when it’s one I may never have.” His lips press soft kisses to the curve where my neck meets my shoulder.
Sighing, my body melts against him. “I hate this. I want nothing more than to be out there with you.”
“I know. As do I.”
His hand drifts up the length of my arm before he circles it around my neck, lightly brushing his thumb rhythmically against the side. Dipping his face lower, heskims his nose against my cheek. “Come home with me tonight,” he whispers.
Turning my face, our lips are a hair's breadth away from touching. My eyes close, and I gently bump my nose against his.
We stand there still—unmoving and silent.
Breathing each other in.
Getting lost in the moment.
“Yes,” I say, but it comes out throaty.
“Watching you and not being in your presence is killing me. I will give you thirty minutes to say your goodbyes, and then we’re going home.”
My heart flips at the ease in which he saidhomeas though it’s ours together. Pushing the feeling away, I start to nod, but he catches my lips with his, stepping slightly to adjust where he’s standing.
I moan as he deepens the kiss, using both of his hands to tilt my head back. Our tongues meld, dancing wildly together in a way that instantly ignites my lust. Warmth pools low in my stomach, desire coursing through my veins.
When he breaks the kiss suddenly, I try to pull him back, but he doesn’t allow me to.
“Piccola ladra, our time right now is limited, but I want nothing more than to rip this dress from your body.” His hands find their way to my sides, and slowly, he begins scrunching fistfuls of the dress into his grasp, shortening it with every grab.
“Please?” he asks. There’s a sparkle of mischief in his eye that I’m drawn to.
