Page 6 of Strange Seduction (Strange #2)

I Missed You.

Yep. Still Arrival Day.

No matter how deep I buried myself in the blueprints and bullshit, my mind kept drifting back to Carmen in the penthouse.

I’d told myself I was coming in for a few hours to tie up loose ends.

Just a quick stop.

Touch base with the crew, oversee the adjustments on the Trastevere site, and get the hell out.

But I was halfway through marking corrections on a plumbing schematic, and I couldn’t stop wondering if she’d found the setup in the bedroom.

If she liked the banner I had strung up.

If she was curled up under the blanket I picked out—soft, cashmere, because she always got cold when she was tired.

Carter leaned back in his chair with a groan, the sound exaggerated as he tossed a rolled blueprint onto the table.

“So,” he said casually, “did your girlfriend get in okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, without looking up. My pen scratched over the half-distracted note in the margin of a printout. “She’s back at the hotel resting. I’m meeting her later.”

Carter nodded and stretched his arms overhead. “You should bring her by sometime. Let her meet the team.”

I shrugged, noncommittal. “I’ll think about it.”

Across the table, Vince made a noise—something between a scoff and a laugh—as he spun a pencil between his fingers.

“I’m surprised you even came back in. Thought for sure you’d be drowning in pussy by now.”

I looked up slowly, flat and unimpressed. “You do realize I sign your paychecks, right?”

Vince just grinned, completely unbothered. “What? I’m just saying. All those months without it? I don’t know how you’re still walking upright. I’d have turned into a goddamn monk.”

“It’s called discipline,” Carter said dryly, tossing a pen at his chest.

Vince caught it with a smirk. “Or insanity. One of the two.”

I rolled my eyes.

“He’s probably sitting here thinking about what he’s gonna do to her the second he’s outta here,” Vince added with a laugh, nudging Carter. “Right? That’s why you’re pretending to care about these duct measurements, huh, Theo?”

I set my pen down a little harder than necessary. “There’s more to my relationship than just fucking, Vince. Now, can we please focus?”

He blinked, as if the concept personally confused him.

“Sure, sure. Love, loyalty, forever, and all that. I get it. Still don’t know how you haven’t lost your damn mind.

I mean—” He leaned back in his chair, gesturing vaguely.

“If it were me? My girl flies across the ocean for me? I’m not leaving that bed for days. ”

“Please,” Carter muttered, rolling his eyes. “Not everything is about sex.”

“Exactly.” I was tired of this conversation.

Vince shrugged. “You two sound like high schoolers. Men’s and women’s relationships rely entirely on sex.

It’s biology. If all that love and devotion shit really mattered, why don’t we marry the first girl who makes us feel good?

Why are guys still obsessed with tight dresses and girls who fuck like rabbits? ”

“ You date women like that,” Carter shot back. “Theo and I? We’re happy in actual relationships. Besides, Theo and his girl have lived apart for years, and they’re still solid. That says something.”

“Yeah. Real solid.”

I gave him a look because I knew what he was implying.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Vince just shrugged, unbothered. “Nothing. But I stand by what I said. Besides, long-distance only works when someone’s too busy chasing their own shit to notice how miserable they are. So they settle for what they have. Even if it’s a million miles away.”

I leaned forward. “I don’t settle.”

Vince held his hands up, grin still in place. “Never said you did.”

The silence after that lingered. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Was that what people thought? That Carmen and I were just playing pretend? That we were still in love with the memory of each other and not the real, living, complicated version? Had we been apart so long that people couldn’t fathom why we’d still be holding on?

Carter clapped his hands together, breaking into forced cheer. “Alright, enough of this bullshit. We’ve got deadlines.”

“Exactly,” I muttered, turning back to the table. “Let’s focus.”

“Whatever you say, capo ,” Vince added under his breath.

But I didn’t respond. Because as much as I hated to admit it, the bastard had gotten under my skin.

I knew better.

Carmen wasn’t a placeholder. She wasn’t a warm body I kept in the back of my mind out of loneliness. She was the endgame. She was it for me. She always had been.

I remembered the way she looked at me back at the hotel and it damn near killed me.

The longer I sat here pretending I gave a shit about HVAC routes and site logistics, the clearer it became:

I had no business being here.

Because in a few hours—or maybe less—she’d be in my arms again.

˙???˙

When I pulled up to the hotel entrance, she was already standing outside, framed by the warm gold glow of the lobby lights spilling through the glass doors behind her. And for a second—no, longer than that—I forgot how to fucking breathe.

She hadn’t seen me yet. She was looking off to the side, phone in one hand, the other resting casually against her hip.

The red dress she wore was painted onto her body like it had been melted over every curve. The fabric caught every bit of ambient light, shifting between crimson and blood-wine with every step she took. It dipped dangerously low at the front, revealing the soft rise of her breasts.

The slit on the side climbed up her thigh, and each movement made it part just enough to catch a glimpse of the smooth, dark skin underneath.

And her hair—God, her hair.

Those golden curls tumbled down over her shoulders in soft, lazy waves that looked like they’d been made to be wrapped around my fingers.

My throat dried instantly.

My jaw clenched hard enough to ache.

She spotted me, and her full lips pulled into a slow, knowing grin as she slid her phone into her clutch.

“You like?” she teased, already twirling before I could answer.

The dress flared out for a second, hugging her tighter when it settled. I knew she’d done it for effect, and Jesus Christ, it worked. I opened the car door before I could think better of it, moving on instinct, still half-dumbstruck by the sheer fact that she was mine.

Mine.

My voice came out rougher than I intended, low and gritty like gravel stuck in my throat. “You’re lucky I already made the reservations.”

She laughed—a soft, flirty sound that hit me square in the chest. Then she stepped closer, hips swaying as she slid into the passenger seat. I quickly rounded the car and got in.

Her bare thigh brushed against my hand as she adjusted her dress, and I went completely still.

I had to grip the steering wheel, holding on with both hands while my body screamed to turn and grab her instead.

Just pull her across the console. Press her against me.

Kiss her until we were breathless and tangled up in that ridiculous dress.

I didn’t.

But it took every shred of control I had left not to.

Instead, I shifted the car into drive, eyes fixed on the road ahead while the heat of her stayed branded against my skin.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her smirk and cross her legs slowly.

I didn’t say anything.

But I didn’t stop staring either.

Not even once.

This woman was trying to kill me.

At dinner, we were tucked away at a corner booth.

Carmen leaned back against the cushioned seat, toying with her water glass as her red dress rode scandalously high up her thigh.

I couldn’t stop looking at her. Every move she made was a goddamn distraction, and I was the idiot sitting front row, jaw slack, and forgetting how to function. Hopefully she’d enjoy tonight enough to take what I had to tell her easily.

I doubt it but we’ll see how it goes.

She speared a piece of pasta with her fork and smiled at me over it.

“So… how was work?”

I thought about Vince’s bullshit, and my jaw tightened.

“Work was work,” I said finally, forcing myself to smile. “I’m just glad it’s over. Did you get any sleep?”

She made a face, adorably sheepish.

“Well, after I showered… I couldn’t sleep. So I, uh, explored the hotel.”

Then she launched into this animated, winding story about getting lost between the spa and the shopping arcade, trying to figure out the elevators.

I listened, soaking it all in, memorizing every detail. Every hand gesture, every breathless giggle.

I missed her.

Not just the sex. Not just her body.

Her.

“And this dress?” she said finally, smoothing her hands over the fabric like she was showing off treasure. “Fifteen hundred euros. That’s okay, right? I charged it to the room.”

I raised my eyebrows, pretending to be scandalized.

“Fifteen hundred?”

She blinked, panicked for a second. “Is it too much?”

A slow smile spread across my face as I reached across the table to tuck a loose curl behind her ear.

“It’s fine, baby. You could charge the whole store for all I care.”

Relief washed over her, and she beamed at me, that radiant, disarming smile that made it impossible to stay mad at her even if I wanted to.

“Okay,” she said brightly.

Her fingers fidgeted with the stem of her glass, and she bit her lip, a nervous little habit she didn’t even know drove me insane.

I let my eyes drag down her body, taking in every curve outlined by that blood-red fabric. The way she shifted under my gaze, thighs pressing together, told me she felt it too. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table, my voice pitched low enough that only she could hear.

“You chose that dress for me,” I said, not a question.

She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Panties?”

Her lips pulled into an easy grin, amused to find my slight fetish still alive and well after all this time. “Maybe.”

I shouldn’t do this.

Not until we’ve talked. Not until I told her. But…

“Tell me,” I demanded.

Carmen glanced around the restaurant, her voice a sultry whisper when she finally said, “A thong. And it’s red.”

My chest tightened painfully.

Fuck. This woman was going to be the death of me.

I sat back, dragging a hand down my face, trying to pull it together because the things I wanted to do to her right now would get us kicked out of this very nice, very expensive restaurant.

But the look she gave me—open, trusting, and knowing exactly what kind of fire she was playing with—snapped whatever self-control I had left.

And right then, all I wanted was to feel her.

Under the table, I slid my hand onto the bare knee that the slit in the dress exposed, inching up, feeling the heat of her skin. She stiffened slightly, but her thighs parted just enough to tell me she didn’t mind.

My fingertips grazed higher until they found the edge of lace, and she sucked in a quiet breath.

Her voice wobbled as she reached for my forearm.

“Theo…”

My thumb circled the center of her wetness, and I leaned closer, my voice low, meant only for her. “What, my love?”

Her eyes darkened, her breathing shallow, and I knew if I pushed just a little more, she’d be completely undone right there at the table.

But before I could slip my fingers where we both wanted them, her phone lit up on the table, buzzing insistently against the white linen.

Carmen flinched like she’d been shot, dragging her gaze away from mine.

She glanced at the screen, and immediately, her whole vibe shifted. The glow disappeared, but I didn’t need to see the screen to know exactly who it was.

Still, she turned it toward me, almost guilty. My jaw clenched hard enough to ache.

She bit her lip, hesitating.

“I should answer it… Excuse me,” she said softly.

I leaned back in my seat, letting my hand fall away from her thigh, my whole body thrumming with frustration.

“Yeah,” I said, voice clipped. “Go ahead.”

Carmen glanced at me, almost wincing, then slid out of the booth with the phone pressed to her ear, weaving between tables toward the front of the restaurant.

I watched her go, my hands fists in my lap.

She left the table to take the call outside, and I couldn’t help but wonder: Why would she have to leave me to take that call?

She was gone for ten minutes, and I signaled for the check.

When I got to the exit, I called for our car. Carmen was still standing by the corner, her back to the entrance. She didn’t notice me, so I took a few steps closer, trying to hear what was so damn important that she couldn’t talk about it in front of me.

“Of course, I’m having fun,” she said casually.

I could hear the other voice on the other end.

Marcus.

“I didn’t think an overachiever like you knew how to have fun,” he said, his voice too playful for my liking.

Carmen’s laugh was light. “Don’t be fresh. I’m a fun person.”

Marcus chuckled, and it crawled under my skin. “I know.”— How the fuck does he know she’s fun? —“The team was just saying how much they miss you.”

“The team? Or you ?” she asked, her tone teasing.

My chest tightened, and my nose flared.

What the hell was that?

I shoved my hands deep into my pockets, gripping the fabric tight to stop myself from doing something stupid, like grabbing her phone and smashing it into the sidewalk.

Marcus was laughing again. “I plead the fifth.”

I could practically feel the smile in his voice. They were way too comfortable with each other.

“Well,” Carmen said, like she was done with whatever this was, “I think I’ve updated you about everything. I should get back now.”

Marcus, still in a relaxed tone, responded, “Right. I’ll get back to work. Good night, kiddo.”

Kiddo.

Carmen’s tone was flat when she replied, “Night, boss.”

The line clicked, and she hung up, her hand dropping from her ear. As she turned around, her eyes widened, locking onto me like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to take so long,” she said, stepping toward me with a soft laugh. I didn’t respond. I just stared at her, my jaw tight.

“Did you… overhear the conversation?” she asked, her voice uncertain.

“No.”

Nodding toward the street as the car pulled up, I tried to regain control over the irritation building inside me.

“Car’s here.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice a little quieter, her gaze lingering on me for just a moment too long.

I could feel the tension between us as I walked ahead, and for the rest of the night, I would probably still hear Marcus’ voice ringing in my ears.

This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.

We got into the car, and the drive back to the hotel was covered in a tired stillness. Rome passed by in blurs of lights and shadows, but all I could focus on was her profile beside me.

Carmen leaned against the passenger seat, her head tilted just slightly toward the window. Her lashes cast delicate shadows on her cheeks, and her breathing had taken on that slow, uneven pattern that came when her body started giving in to exhaustion, but her mind was still moving.