Chapter 8: Separate Bedrooms, You Said

"Not tonight," I said. "Tonight I'm busy."

"With what?"

"Numbers."

Luca came into the room and shut the connecting door behind him.

He crossed to the desk, looked down at my pad, and took the pen out of my hand.

"You've written the same figure three times," he said.

"I was checking it."

"Separate bedrooms, you said."

"I did say that."

"This is yours." He set the pen down and leaned one hip on the desk. "I came through the door anyway."

I looked at his open collar.

I looked at the hollow of his throat, where a pulse was going quick and hard.

I stood up so that we were a hand apart.

"Close the door properly," I said. "The lock."

He did.

When he turned back, I had already taken hold of his shirt.

I pulled him down and kissed him, and he kissed me back.

His mouth was hot and hungry, and his hands went into my hair and pulled my head back so he could get deeper.

I gasped into his mouth.

"You've been thinking about this," I said against his lips.

"Since the airport."

"Liar."

"Since the courthouse, then," he said. "Pick one."

I laughed, and he swallowed the sound, and his hands found the zipper at the back of my dress.

He drew it down slowly, one tooth at a time, and I felt every one of them in my spine.

The dress fell off my shoulders and caught on my hips.

I pushed it the rest of the way down and stood in front of him in my bra and underwear.

He stepped back to look at me.

His grey eyes went over my body, and his mouth parted.

"God, Gemma."

"Take your shirt off."

He unbuttoned it with unsteady fingers and shrugged it to the floor.

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