Page 2 of Rio

He’s chivalrous, if a little forward.I turn around to see if he’s joking or being real and his eyes dip down to my bare feet.I’m suddenly feeling hot and bothered.I reach up and undo the big bow at the side of my high neck; not that it’s going to help much.This dress which tapers in at the waist and fans out into a wide skirt, is elegant and perfect for a wedding, but now, with its full sleeves and that neck, it feels suffocating.The silky fabric clings to my skin, too hot and sticky, even though the air conditioning is on.

“You don’t need to strip for me, princesa,” he murmurs.The corners of his lips turn up into a lazy smile.

“In your dreams.I’d never strip for you.”

“You have no idea of my dreams.”His voice, thick and raspy, makes my brain fog over because his words sound like a confession.I’m suddenly too afraid to fire back.My mouth usually doesn’t let me down.I can match wit and humor, easily.But tonight?I’m at a loss.

Despite my earlier resolve, I need a drink, so I reach for a small bottle of white wine, but then I remember I can’t have it.I need a clear head, for work but also because I also can’t let my guard down, not with this man in my room, looking like he wants to eat me.

How I want him to.

I shake my head, hating myself for feeling so hot, and tingly all over and grab a bottle of sparkling water instead.He hasn’t even touched me yet, and already my breasts feel heavy.Heat begins to coil low in my belly.

Needing to show that I’m in control, even if I don’t feel it, I turn around, place a hand on my hip and stare at him.He’s made himself at home, dropping onto the edge of the armchair like he owns this room, but now his gaze trails over me slowly, and I fold my arms in disapproval.We stare at each other, tension crackling in the air.Suddenly everything feels too intense.The hot, sultry night fills with heated anticipation.

“I’ve changed my mind.I’ll have uh …” He pauses.“I don’t suppose they have much in there?”

“Stale peanuts or overpriced chocolate?”I ask him.Then, “There’s no aged tequila.”

That earns me a grin.“You remembered, princesa.”

Me and my mouth.“Jack Daniel’s?”

“That’ll do.”

I grab a mini bottle of the Jack Daniel’s, walk over and hand it to him.The rough calluses of his fingertips scrape lightly across my skin.It’s heat and fire.Electricity and shock.Just from one touch.A delicious shiver tingles along my spine.I assumed that as a pampered Knight, with his smooth suits and inherited money, his cocky self-assuredness and not a worry in the world, he’d have baby smooth skin.But now my imagination runs wild as I wonder what it might be like to have those big, rough hands all over me.

I immediately step away.

“You been thinking of me, huh?”He twists of the cap and downs half of it without blinking.”

I don’t bother replying, but move away, needing to keep some distance between us, even as my heart hammers in my chest and I try to phase out sinful thoughts running rampant in my head.My breasts feel heavy, and as I stare at Rio looking so comfortable, so casual, I wonder if he can tell I want him.He looks so at home with his legs wide apart, one hand resting lazily on the armrest, the other holding his Jack Daniel’s.

“I see you’ve made yourself at home.”

“You haven’t kicked me out.”His gaze slides over my body again.If looks could undress, I’d be naked now.I shift from one foot to the other, feeling the need to squeeze my thighs together, to relieve the buildup of pressure making my insides combust.“I think you like me being here but you’re too stubborn to admit it.”

The audacity of the man.“My mother raised me to have manners and I’m too polite to kick you out just yet.”

He’s nothing but a pompous, confident ass, sitting on my armchair, looking like he’s never going to leave.I almost,almost,look him over again.

“You’re not nervous are you, princesa?”He grins before taking another gulp.

I laugh.“I don’t scare easily—”

“I didn’t say you were scared.I asked if you were nervous.”

“Same thing, Knight.”I sip my water, the bubbles fizz as they go down my throat.He watches me so intensely, I feel goosebumps skittering across my skin.

“We’re two adults in a hotel room, alone.Very innocent, princesa.”

“I said no flirting.”

He holds up a hand.“No flirting.Just sitting.Watching you pace around barefoot like some kind of goddess who hates me.”

I snort.“Goddess?”

He nods.My eyes avoid his, but it’s the heat I feel, from everything being so overpowering—his gaze, his presence, his cockiness.