Dio l’aiuti—God help her—she would have to share a bed with him on occasion.

And, dio l’aiuti, the thought made her heat from the inside.

Ever since that particular aspect of their talk, it had felt as if a glow had been lit inside of her. His lips against her ear, his breath whispering on her skin...the heat it had ignited...

When he entered her apartment, impeccably dressed in a fashionable navy suit and striped pale-yellow tie, her heart made an involuntary skip. It skipped again when she caught his clean, freshly showered scent.

‘My apologies for the delay,’ he said, leaning in to give her the traditional kiss on each cheek.

Two little kisses; two tiny brushes of his lips against her skin, the hint of his warm breath on her...

her body responding to his proximity like a bee to a

on the pretext of checking her purse. If he looked at her now, he would see the colour she knew had bloomed on her face scorching

whether deliberately or not. Even her grandfather, a man she’d thought full of morality, had lied. Only after

man she trusted was

think what the

did it go with the

It would save him

‘Your blood pressure?’

on an

intention to miss the appointment. There was a crisis at Bloomfield Bank

married or anything.’ She

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