“Interesting.” I enjoyed hearing Dante’s take on human behaviour. I never would have guessed how much consideration and effort he put into a simple interview. “What about when you’re interviewed by a man?”
“Men are a whole other ballgame,” he said, shaking his head. “Lots of guys act like they’re my best mate, as if we’re on the verge of going for a beer after the questions are done. Others…” he leaned forward to share his secret, “let’s just say men can be the biggest flirts of all, including the straight ones.”
I frowned, more than a little sceptical. “Seriously?”
“Hell yes, some men get a real kick out of it when I try to seduce them with my eyes.” He waggled his eyebrows at me. The move was so superficial and over the top I cracked up laughing. “It has to be covert, though. Totally under the radar, so no one knows but the two of us,” he added, slipping on the sinful voice he’d used on Simone not so long ago. “More than one man has left my interview room with his bag placed strategically over his crotch.”
I released another peal of laughter. “A straight man giving another straight man an inconvenient boner? You are so full of bullshit.”
His jaw dropped, and he let out a cry of disbelief. “It’s not bullshit, it’s public relations and it’s a bloody art form.” He threw his hands in the air. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to act like a self-entitled prick and still have people like you?”
“Not really, no.” I pushed the salad aside and moved on to cutting fruit for dessert. “I figured you just went around flashing that sexy smile of yours and talking dirty to people.”
His expression said I didn’t understand the first thing about his supposed art form. “There’s a fine line between flirtation and sexual harassment, Sean. Talking dirty to people I’ve barely met would definitely put me on the wrong side of it.”
“True,” I conceded. “Why act like a self-entitled prick, at all? You could try being yourself.”
“Why? No one wants to see that.” He folded his arms back behind his head as he stretched. “People expect me to be a brat. I give them a charming brat.” His arms dropped back down, and he stole a grape from the bag on the counter. “They’d go home disappointed if I was all sweetness and light.”
“Sweetness and light?” I snorted. “Wouldn’t that be an act, too?”
“Yeah,” he agreed grudgingly. “You’re probably right.” A comfortable silence fell for a few moments, before he added, “I like that you think my smile is sexy, though.”
My eyes lifted to his and, when he grinned at me, I couldn’t help but smile back. “You know what I meant.”
Another beat of silence passed, and then, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous because I flirted with the pretty reporter lady.”
“Jealous?” I scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He didn’t look even a little bit ridiculous when he lowered his chin but continued to hold on to my gaze with those soulful brown eyes. “If you’re feeling left out, I could flirt with you too.”
The knife in my hand lifted and I gestured at him with the sharp tip. “No, you can’t flirt with me. I’m the hired help.”
Rising from his seat, he walked around the end of the counter, his fingertips trailing along the entire length. “The hired help doesn’t usually smack my hand away when I try to steal food.” Now he stood in the kitchen with me, he thrust his hands deep into his pockets. The move dragged the waistband of his jeans down low enough to expose a strip of taut stomach and I had to fight to get my eyes to return to his face. “And they don’t generally point knives at me.” He glanced down pointedly, and I realised I’d turned to face him, but kept the knife in front of me, as if it could protect me from whatever he had planned.
I dropped the sharp blade on the cutting board with a dull clunk. “Sorry.”
Now I was unarmed, he sidled a little closer. His voice, when he spoke, was low and unhurried. “I’ve been meaning to thank you for taking such good care of me while I’ve been here.”
I swallowed hard and cleared my throat. No way would I fall for his public relations shtick. “It’s not a problem. All part of the job.”
“I know.”
He plucked another grape from the bag. Lifting it with two fingers, he placed it between his lips and sucked his cheeks in as he bit into it. My mouth went dry and I had the urge to follow the grape, suck its flavour off his tongue and experience it for myself.
“You’re good at what you do.” His gaze locked on my face. Not staring as such. It was more like he’d become absorbed in the sight of me and was unable to look away. “Creating music can be a deeply emotional process. Having you here, spending time with you,” the faintest touch of a smile curved his lips, “it helps make things easier.”
Holy crap, he was good. He wasn’t leering at me. He hadn’t uttered a single inappropriate word or invaded my personal space in any way. And yet, I could swear I felt his presence all over me. Maybe my joke to Gabi about him having supercharged pheromones wasn’t so far off, after all.
“Can you feel it, Sean?” he murmured, tilting his head to one side. “The connection?”
Taking a deep breath, I nodded. “I feel it.” Nerves made the corners of my mouth twitch. “That’s incredible.”
Dante’s smile deepened, and the tip of his tongue sneaked out to catch between his teeth. “Thank you. It’s a game I’ve been playing a long time.” Even now, he spoke each word in the same low tone, drawing me in so I didn’t miss a single word of what he had to say.
My own breathlessness should have warned me it was time to back away. But I wanted more, just a little bit more. Then, I’d put a stop to it. It was only a game, after all. It didn’t mean anything. “How do you make it seem so real?”
“There’s one essential ingredient.” He edged the tiniest bit closer. “The words coming out of your mouth, whatever they are, have to be honest. Lies are too easy to spot.” He swallowed. Shifted his stance. “Honesty is easy with you, because you really are good at what you do. And I really do…” he licked his lips and his breathing sped up a fraction, “I appreciate you.”
