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I grin. "Then that's a hell yes."

CHAPTER FOUR

BRIDGET

Enzo's penthouse is ridiculous. Enormous windows, expensive furniture, and a view that could make a grown woman cry over her bank statement. Everything is perfectly arranged, and there isn't a single cat toy on the floor. Honestly, how does the man live like this?

"Well?" he asks, closing the door behind us.

"It's beautiful. Although I feel like I should take my shoes off before I accidentally bankrupt myself."

He laughs and approaches, his hands settling against my waist. But when I glance toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms, he notices my nervousness.

"We don't have to do anything tonight."

I blink. "You brought me all the way up here to tell me that?"

"I brought you here because I want you with me. Anything else is up to you."

For a man who spent most of the evening issuing instructions like he owns the planet, he's surprisingly good at making me feel comfortable. I slip my arms around his neck.

"Well, for the record, I didn't come all this way to admire your furniture."

"Thank Christ."

He kisses me with a low laugh, and I pull him closer, enjoying the way his carefully maintained composure begins to slip. His jacket ends up on the sofa, followed by my shoes, which I kick off before they can do any permanent damage to my feet.

"Impatient, sweetheart?" he asks when I tug at his shirt.

"You've been kissing me like that all evening. What did you expect?"

"That you'd ask nicely."

"You're awfully demanding for a man who's still wearing all his clothes."

His smile turns wicked. "Then perhaps you'd better do something about that."

I laugh and start undoing the buttons of his shirt. He's watching me with an expression that makes my confidence grow rather than disappear, and when I finally push the fabric from his shoulders, I run my palms across his warm skin.

"Good Lord. Do you have any idea how unfairly attractive you are?" And even more surprising, the man is covered in dangerous looking black ink.

"You're one to talk."

I glance down at my dress, suddenly remembering that I'm not exactly a size two. Enzo notices my hesitation before I can cover it with another joke.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just that you look like you were carved out of something expensive, and I had no idea you had tattoos. I look like a woman who enjoys bread."

He studies me for a moment, then gently brushes my hair away from my face.

"Bridget, I've spent the entire evening trying not to stare at you. I want you exactly as you are."

I've spent years criticizing a body this man apparently can't stop admiring. And I'm thirty-seven years old, with a gorgeous man standing in front of me, so perhaps it's time I stopped worrying about my thighs long enough to enjoy myself.

"Then kiss me, you ridiculously handsome bastard."

He grins. "Gladly."