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He shrugs, the European male answer to numerous communications. "Maybe I did, but Ithoughtmy intention was to take you to dinner."
"Not very self-aware, are you?"
The elevator stops and the doors open.
His gaze stays fixed on mine. "Everything with you is different."
"That's a pretty broad statement."
"Are you saying you don't feel the same?" He steps out of the elevator, his hand on the door to stop it closing on me.
"I…" I swallow and then say quietly. "No. I do feel it."
Whatever this thing is between us, it's powerful and we both feel it. That's good, right? I'm not in this alone.
Only knowing he's experiencing every bit of the intense attraction and unexpected emotion is also kind of scary. Neither of us is going to put the brakes on.
"So, you expected this?" He leads me out of the elevator with one hand on the small of my back into a nice, but not overly large apartment.
Curiously impersonal, the décor is a lot like a suite in a high-end hotel.
I turn to face him, very aware of the hand against me, remaining on my back, causing me to step closer and have to tilt my head back to see his expression.
"Not when you asked me to dinner." Not exactly, I amend to myself.
I knew once we were alone here that the chances of leaving again quickly were slim though. If he doesn't make a move, I will.
And I'm not a sexually aggressive person. Or at least I never have been in the past.
Like at all.
"So, this is not the norm for you?" He oozes masculine arrogance, clearly satisfied by that thought.
I want to claim I do this sort of thing all the time just to wipe the smug look from his face, but I tell the truth instead. "I don't have sex with men I just met."
I've hardly had sex at all. But I went a little nuts with freedom my freshman year, when I was allowed to attend university without a twenty-four-seven bodyguard presence for the first time in my life.
So, not a virgin.
But not really experienced, either.
He takes my hat from my unresisting fingers and tosses it onto an armchair. "Even on your last hurrah from university?"
"It wasn't part of the plan, no."
He examines me, like he was trying to read the honesty of my statement. I should be offended, but I'm not. I'm trying to read him too.
Is he a player?
My gut says no, but can I trust any body part of mine knowing how much I want this guy?
I have nothing to hide, so I let him look his fill. "What about you? Do you pick up tourists for sex often?"
"I never pick up tourists at all." There's a ring of truth to his words I can't ignore.
"Good."
Rio's gaze turns heated, scorching me with unmistakable sexual desire. "I am going to kiss you."
