Page 54 of Disavowed

“Only child.” What she wouldn’t have given to have a sibling to grow up with.

“Then you must have been pretty close with your parents.”

“I was.” Until they died. But she didn’t want to discuss her lack of family growing up.

Another couple strolled hand in hand onto the dance floor, smiling at each other as they swayed to the romantic Italian melody piping in from overhead speakers.

“I can tell you’re not much of a reminiscer.” He laughed lightly. “Care to dance?” He stood and held out his hand.

“Now you’re talking.” She removed her shawl and draped it over the back of her chair. No matter where this date was headed, she hadn’t met a dance partner yet she’d turn down. Dancing was an outlet, a stress reliever.

When he swung her onto the dance floor, their bodies touched. She closed her eyes and gave in to the rhythm as he led her around the tiny floor.

“You’re a good dancer.” He pulled her closer so that her head was tucked under his chin. His breath was warm against her ear. “You know I care about you, and I’d like to get to know you better. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance. Give us a chance, for you to get to know me. Okay?”

Something tugged at her heart, but it wasn’t what she wanted it to be. He is so nice, I just don’t feel any sparks. Even with her braless breasts pressed up against his chest and the prospect of chocolate fondue on the horizon.

Give him a chance.

“Okay.” She swallowed the guilty lump in the back of her throat. No matter how nice he was, she was unable to shake the certainty that no matter how much of a chance she gave him, there would never be any sparks.

The rest of the evening passed quickly. They returned to their table, then ate their meals, followed by chocolate fondue. Thankfully, Jack didn’t try to feed her.

After he’d parked outside her apartment building, he went around to her side of his BMW and opened the door. She appreciated the gentlemanly gesture, although she wondered why a man who owned a BMW needed to run deliveries for a florist.

When he clasped her face gently and kissed her, she honestly didn’t know how to react. In the spirit of giving him a chance, she gave in to it.

His mouth was warm against hers, and when he urged her to part her lips, she did. He tasted like chocolate. Never a bad thing. As he deepened the kiss, she rested her hands at his waist, sensing tension in his body, as if he were holding back. She had to admit he was an experienced kisser, and she was an excellent judge of kissing. With the right guy, she could do it all night. But she wasn’t ready for things to go any further. At least not yet. Easing her hands to his chest, she pushed gently.

He made a sound that could only be interpreted as a frustrated groan, and she glimpsed the unmistakable hardening of his jaw. “I’ll walk you to your door.” As he took her hand, his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, but he didn’t complain.

Once they’d reached her door, she took her keys from her bag. “Thank you for a beautiful evening.”

“My pleasure.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Can I take you out tomorrow night?”

“Not tomorrow.” She shook her head. “I’ll be too busy going over last-minute plans for the Piazza, and I need to get a good night’s sleep.” Tomorrow was the one night out of the entire year that she never went out.

“I won’t take no for an answer,” he said, tugging her closer, and she again noted an uncomfortable intensity in his eyes.

“You have to.” She smiled, tilting her head to look up at him. “I wasn’t kidding. I’m not going out tomorrow.” And you really need to let go of me.

After another long, uncomfortable moment, he frowned but relented, releasing her. “Okay,” he growled through clenched teeth. “See you tomorrow, boss.”

After he turned to leave, she inserted her key into the lock. A slamming sound had her spinning to see Jack had taken the stairs instead of the elevator, and he’d apparently shoved the door open with enough force to send it smacking against the stairwell wall.

“Oh, crap,” she muttered as she let herself into her apartment. He’d obviously hoped the night would end in her bed and wasn’t happy it didn’t. Too bad. She’d had her one and only sex-on-the-first-date and wasn’t looking to repeat it.

After locking up and turning out the living room light, she went into the bedroom to change into a silk nightshirt. It was only ten o’clock, but she was drained and the shop was open tomorrow. She slipped into bed and turned off the bedside lamp. Twenty minutes later, she was still awake, staring at the ceiling.

Despite being exhausted, her mind was revving in high gear. She’d been crazy to hire Dom. Eventually her latent feelings for him would pass. But in the meantime, seeing him every day would probably tie her into knots.

With a groan, she turned over and punched the pillow into submission.

…

As Dom had watched Jack kiss Daisy, he’d gripped the steering wheel so hard it wouldn’t have surprised him to hear it crack. And when Jack had led her inside, he’d slammed his fist against the side window.

For the last hour, he’d been keeping vigil half a block away, waiting for her to return home. For professional reasons, he kept telling himself. He knew Jack’s feelings for Daisy were real, and as such he doubted he would hurt her. But he had a professional obligation to watch out for her just the same.