It never ended.
She simply didn’t know what—or how—to do anything with it. If he was interested in her, and she was clearly interested in him, then why hadn’t he done something about it? That’s what she wanted to do.
Instead, she was waiting on him.
Ginevra was just about done waiting. If she was going to be stuck here in Toronto with this man until God knew when, then why couldn’t she have a little bit of fun while she was at it? Besides, it wasn’t just the attraction. No, it was more than that.
Something about Corrado danced like a flame.
She was the stupid moth coming a little too close.
What would happen when they met?
Something amazing, she bet.
“I think you like my staring,” she replied.
Corrado’s tongue peeked out to wet the corner of his mouth, showing off rows of white teeth that made her wonder what it would feel like if he used those teeth on her. Okay, wow. She went there quick.
Yeah.
“You don’t know that I like anything you do, actually,” he returned.
No, because he was very careful about that. Quick to put distance between them. Fast to give her space when he thought the two of them were getting too close. He always made sure that they never got too deep when they talked. Not since that morning in the kitchen.
She didn’t like it.
“Right now, I know,” she said.
Corrado arched an eyebrow in challenge. “Oh, tell me how, then.”
“I don’t think you want me to.”
A laugh answered that back. And God, he sounded and looked so fucking good doing it, too. Except in her distraction at enjoying the sight of him carefree and sexy, she didn’t realize he’d crossed the gym floor and came to stand in front of her until he was right there.
Right fucking there.
Brown eyes bore into hers.
He was close enough for her to touch.
Ginevra stared up at him, words catching in her throat as that heat shot through her nerves all over again. Electric. It really was the only appropriate way to describe what she felt whenever this man was near. Like something was buzzing around them—something different and important and amazing.
He seemed willing to ignore it.
She wasn’t.
Not anymore.
“Tell me how you know, then,” he said, his head dipping lower so that she could feel the warmth of his breath whispering along her lips. “I’m waiting, Ginny.”
Her gaze dropped between them.
And then, it came back up.
She couldn’t manage to feel embarrassed about the heat staining her cheeks as she whispered, “You’re hard.”
And he was.
Under the thin, satiny fabric of the gym shorts, the ridge of his erection was plain to see pushing against the material. She didn’t think he was wearing anything else under the shorts, not that she minded. It gave her a good view.
It proved something, too.
She affected him.
Corrado blinked once, slow and considering, his stare drifting over her face, down her throat, and then back up again where his eyes lingered on her lips. The action alone was enough to make her wet her lips, and swallow hard.
“You shouldn’t poke a monster,” he murmured.
“I only see a man, Corrado.”
“It’s what’s hiding in the man that might scare you, amour.”
“Just how many languages can you speak?”
Corrado’s mouth edged higher at the corners. “That’s the question you want to ask right now.”
“Why not?”
“Surprising me again, Ginny.”
She finally figured out what he meant when he told her that, too. Everyone else would ask the obvious question, and she didn’t. She asked the things he wasn’t expecting, and it constantly kept him on his toes.
“How many?” she asked.
“I grew up speaking three,” he replied. “French and Italian from my father’s side of the family—French from the Quebecois side, and Italian from ... well, we’re a touch more Italian than French. And also English, of course.”
“Is that all?”
“I know a bit of Russian, enough to get me through a conversation. Some German, but not nearly enough. And I might take on something else, if it interests me.”
Ginevra nodded, and her gaze dropped between them again ... just to check. “And you’re still hard. Is that all it takes, just a conversation with me to get your cock up, Corrado?”
“I shouldn’t be feeling anything about you at all, but certainly not that.”
“But why?”
He inched closer, his body molding against hers all at once, taking away her breath, and making her incredibly aware of every nerve ending inside her. He smelled like leather and musk—maybe a touch of whiskey, too.
It stunned her.
“You are far too innocent to be playing that kind of game with a man like me,” he said, his tone dipping dangerously again. “I promise you that, Ginny. The things I’ve done in bed would make you run. You’re looking for something that’s going to be fun for you, and I only like to ruin things, woman. I take beautiful things, and I wreck them.”
She didn’t think so.
That only made her hotter.
And curious.
“Would you tell me those things?”
Corrado let out a dark sound, a noise that seemed like it tore right out of his fucking chest. Except, she didn’t get the chance to admire the sound, or the way his features shadowed because in the next breath, he was kissing her.
There was nothing soft about the kiss—nothing sweet. The roughness of his lips slamming against hers was enough to have her stomach clenching, and her heart racing. His tongue swept the seam of her lips, demanding. Like the rest of his kiss, and touches, too. One of his hands tangled into the waves of her hair, and the other landed hard to her hip, fisting into the thin cotton shorts she’ll pulled on for bed.
He took and took and took.
Lips that worked harshly against hers, their tongues warring, though he controlled that, too. And then his teeth slid against her lower lip before tugging. His mouth moved lower, a sharp heat following the same path when his teeth grazed her skin. Just as quickly, he came back up to claim her mouth again with another bruising kiss that felt like he wanted to suck the fucking soul right out of her.
She’d give it to him.
If he asked, he could have that.
He dragged her closer, grinding her body against his, and making that heat travel lower. Until her thighs ached from it, and she was sure her shorts were wet, too.
Then, all at once, Corrado stepped back from her. It happened so fast, that she didn’t know what to make of it, or the sudden stiffness in his body as he refused to meet her gaze. She could see the need vibrating through him, the way his jaw flexed as his tongue swept his lower lip, tasting her there.
Still, he kept that distance.
He stayed stiff.
“Corrado—”
“Don’t,” he said thickly, a shake of his head punctuating the words.
Something painful hit her in the chest.
It felt like rejection.
Why wouldn’t he look at her?
“There’ll be a box on your bed later,” he said, turning away from her. “I trust that the girl at the shop picked out something appropriate, and that you’ll like it. I know that you picked up your makeup and whatever else women like when we went shopping, so put it to use. Be ready for six—we have somewhere to be.”