Chapter Eight
SANTE FROWNED DOWN at his pen, avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes.
Especially hers. Maintaining his professional distance was an unbearable, annoying, endless problem.
He needed fewer meetings. Fewer hours in the office.
Better still, none at all if he was going to survive the next two and a bit months.
Three days ago he’d watched Mia board his helicopter and told himself it was the right thing.
She wanted them to be done. In truth, in that moment all he’d wanted to do was peel her clothes from her and make her hot and soft and his again. Which had been impossible. And it hadn’t felt right sending her back alone, either. But it was for the best.
Except it wasn’t. Mia had a starring role in his dreams, night after night—fantasies, in truth, given he couldn’t actually sleep.
He lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, wishing she were with him.
He couldn’t even concentrate on work through the night anymore.
It was actually worse than last week and that had been bad enough.
It was appalling. He’d gone for years spending every night alone.
He’d never had a relationship last more than a few weeks because his date grew impatient with his inability to ‘open up.’ Because Sante didn’t share anything personal ever and he refused to care.
Except he wanted Mia. All the damned time. It was like she’d infected him somehow.
He needed distraction. More meetings with more people. That was what she’d suggested; that was what she would get. He was insanely careful not to be alone with her. He left every door open so he couldn’t be tempted to touch her. Until he had to shut his door to try to block her dulcet tones.
He’d heard her humming this morning. She was busy, engaging as ever, clearly not suffering the same way he was.
She’d sounded as if she hadn’t a care in the world and he’d never felt such resentment.
He’d not had a decent night’s sleep since he’d first seen her.
Now he’d had her, he craved her attention—her eyes on him, her touch.
And he was jealous of an intern. The way she checked in with each one every morning grated.
Because she didn’t check in with him. She emailed.
He emailed back. Despite being only fifteen feet away from her.
His only respite should have been when she went for her customary walk at lunchtime.
Instead, he spent the entire forty minutes glancing out the window, watching for her return.
He was pathetic. He was determined to regain control.
But he couldn’t so much as look at her while he did.
Except his peripheral vision refused to play ball—it sent his brain updates of her in her long skirts and soft blouses that hinted at those glorious curves, her glossy hair in a ponytail or plait.
Always stunning. Always looking like the best present a guy could ever hope to be given.
But he’d never been given presents at all let alone ones to keep.
That didn’t stop him wanting to unwrap her, wanting to enjoy her, again and again and again.
* * *
He wouldn’t so much as look at her. Didn’t offer the briefest acknowledgement when she walked into the room. In fact, Sante Trovato was more grumpy than ever.
Mia was determined not to let it bother her.
This was the agreement. They’d had their one night—yes, it had turned into two—but it had ended the second she boarded that helicopter.
This was exactly what she’d wanted. So she was fine with it.
Just fine. She wasn’t going to daydream about being back in Sicily.
She wasn’t going to replay every second of the best sexual encounter of her life.
She would move forward. She would be responsible and professional.
But that he could simply blank her? So coldly, so easily? The few times he had to speak to her, he did it without even looking at her. Which riled. Of course she’d expected him to be a little remote but really, the man was being rude.
She began counting off the days on the calendar. They’d had three days in the office since the weekend and there were still far too many to go before Adele would be back.
Her stupid body wouldn’t stop aching and her brain did unhelpfully replay every moment from the weekend at the worst times during the day and rampantly at night.
Which meant she tossed and turned and her exhaustion and resentment worsened by the minute.
Which was frustrating given she’d been the one to stipulate they could have only that one weekend.
That there be nothing more. But his cold, robotic behaviour destroyed the last of her patience.
She grabbed a shirt from her wardrobe and buttoned it, pulled on a skirt.
She would get through another day. She could do this.
Once in the office she glared at the terse emails and abrupt orders.
There wasn’t even a please or a thank-you.
Absolutely no pretence at politeness. Well, she wasn’t replying.
He could damned well deal with her in person.
But he didn’t even look up when she went into his lair to inform him that the team had finished phase one of the synergy project at last.
‘Make sure they test it rigorously,’ he responded briefly.
‘Yes, of course,’ she sniped primly. ‘Your wish is my command.’
She turned and glided out of his office and back to her desk. Or she would have glided if her upper arm hadn’t been grasped tightly—forcing her to veer away from her destination and into the doorway five paces beyond instead.
‘What the hell is that?’ Sante’s growl was harsh in her ear as he pulled her into the small room, pushed her against the back wall and pressed in close. His gaze skimmed down her body, his expression tightening as he saw her budded nipples poking through her blouse.
‘You wore that just to torment me, didn’t you?’ he muttered huskily.
‘What?’ Mia stared, stunned by the wildness in his eyes. ‘Are you ser—’
He slammed his mouth on hers.
‘What are you doing?’ she whispered when he broke apart but couldn’t stop her hips arching forward for more contact.
‘I can’t sit there looking at you a second longer,’ he groaned, sliding his hand to her bottom and pulling her tightly against him. ‘I can’t stand it.’
‘You don’t look at me.’
‘For good reason,’ he explained bluntly, emphasising that very reason with a sharp thrust of his hips. ‘In this fucking blouse—’
He kissed her again and Mia was lost. She quivered, all concern fled, all distance forgiven. There was nothing but sweet relief and heat. He wanted her still. He wanted her now. And she just wanted it all.
‘What’s wrong with this blouse?’ she half laughed as he kissed across her jaw.
‘Cream.’
She was blank for a moment before realising it was the shirt she’d worn that morning he’d arrived. With a groan she flung her arms around his neck. ‘You’ve been so stand-offish—’
‘I’ve been so restrained,’ he argued, sliding his hands beneath said blouse. ‘You have no idea—how could I look at you? Everyone would know what I want to do to you. I can’t control my own thoughts.’ He pressed against her with shockingly fantastic intimacy. ‘Tell me it’s the same for you.’
Mia tried to recover her reason but in the same instant she leaned fully against the wall, her legs trembling. ‘Sante…’
‘Maybe I’ll just find out for myself.’
His kiss was hungry, his tongue rapacious, but it was his hands that were truly greedy. They went straight to her secret treasure and discovered exactly what she’d been thinking of for days now—with only a few strokes he made her shake.
‘Sante.’ She gasped and they both knew it for the approval it was. ‘Sante,’ she repeated, shuddering as he caressed her.
‘You’re so ready for me.’ He looked at her with savage approval. ‘I’m turned on so tight all the damned time, Mia. I just want to—’
He didn’t say, he showed. Kissing her neck as his fingers teased.
Excitement poured through her, heating her all the more.
He stopped the stormy kisses and defiantly stared down at her as if daring her to stop him when he could feel for himself, so intimately, just how much she wanted him. How close she was to—
‘Sante.’ She struggled to catch her breath and slow them down because they were at work. ‘This is the cleaner’s closet,’ she breathed, even as she rocked her hips a little, encouraging his skilful fingers to assuage that horrible ache inside.
‘Yes.’ He skittered and circled her slick sex in a wicked tease. ‘Because someone thought it was a good idea for me to have an open-door policy and if I’m with you in there, someone could walk in at any moment.’
That was…true. She suddenly smiled. ‘You have to admit a lot of the team has been more present in the office this week.’
‘They won’t get out of my face. Which is frustrating. Because do you know where I really want to put my face?’
‘Sante!’ she squeaked as he dropped to his knees before her.
He lifted her skirt and tugged her panties down just enough for him to graze her upper thighs with his lightly stubbled jaw. She slumped all her weight back against the wall and surrendered, spreading her legs and arching towards his hungry mouth.
‘Please…’ she pleaded, then moaned as he stroked her. ‘Oh…’
She didn’t need to beg. He was already stirring her higher with a rhythmic sweep of his tongue.
‘Oh…please!’ she sobbed, rocking against him. She ached for the release that was suddenly so close.
But as her arousal soared, she gasped, eyes widening as she neared the pinnacle. But it gave her the briefest glimpse of their surroundings. Of reality.
‘I can’t.’ She clutched his shoulders even as she rocked against him, simultaneously panicked and shuddering and turned on even more. ‘I’ll be too loud.’
‘I like you best when you’re loud,’ he said deeply.