Page 113

He glanced out the window. Why the big secret? “Do you remember what you said to me last night?”

“When?”

“Just as you were going to sleep.”

I laughed. “Are you kidding me? Wine. Champagne. I’m lucky I was conscious when we were…” I glanced over my shoulder at the man fussing with something behind the counter and lowered my voice to a whisper. “Fucking.”

Jago drummed his fingers on the table. “You were tired.”

“So you’re not going to tell me what horrible thing I said to you?” I lifted my eyebrows and instantly blushed when he raked his finger across my cheek, showing me the glob of chocolate. Instead of sucking his finger, he wiped the stain on a napkin. Whatever I’d said had seriously pissed him off.

It was too bad I couldn’t remember.

“Not important,” he stated in the tone that meant that part of our conversation was over.

Fine. Hardheaded bastard.

“Spill the secret. Bella told you about my love of donuts. Didn’t she?”

“She might have mentioned it. Now, you tell me. What did you think we were doing?”

“I thought you’d set up a business meeting, using the excuse of coming to Madrid to lock me into a contract.”

“You mean taking over.”

“Yes.”

“As I said before, sweet Genevieve, you’ll need to learn to trust me. I’m no longer your enemy.”

If only I could believe that. If only I could trust he wouldn’t rip my little world to pieces.

Shattering my heart in the process.

“Are you certain you can handle those?” Jago asked when he noticed the boxes starting to slip from my grasp.

“Trust me. I’ve never lost a single donut in my life.”

“I bet you haven’t.”

“Are you making fun of me again?”

“Maybe.” He took his time moving closer to me, although it was difficult to crowd my space when we both had boxes in our hands.

Somehow he managed, holding his collection, or my collection, in his one hand and placing his other palm on the steel panel next to me. While forced to hold his body stubbornly away from me by several inches, he was still as oppressive and dominating as before. Maybe even more so.

The closeness was suffocating, but not in the same way.

I felt as if I was floating on a cloud, every extremity tingling.

“Not fair,” I breathed, tilting my head, which I definitely shouldn’t have done. His lips were far too rosy and appealing. Heat poured off him and directly into my throbbing pussy.

Why did I have the distinct feeling he could just as easily trash the donuts to have sex in the elevator then turn around and have the donut man deliver me new ones?

He lowered his head and I’ll be damned if our lips didn’t touch.

“Life isn’t fair,mi dulce regalo,” he breathed and nipped my lower lip.

Which caused me to shudder. I was his sweet treat, huh?