His tent was cozy,

all done in white leather furnishings and infused with a faint scent of vanilla. Under the shimmer of the small chandelier overhead, my dress looked scarlet red. I swallowed and smoothed out the fabric around my waist. This was the worst place to tell him about his ex’s plans. I plumped myself on the sofa, and a few pillows dropped to the floor.

“Oh, sorry.” I bent to pick them up.

“Leave it.” Cole caught my hand. He unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket and sat. Out of habit, or cowardice, I inched over to my left to make room. He gave me a bright smile that said nice try. “Make up your mind, Valentina. I can’t take this any longer.”

I melted a little every time he said my name, a hot puddle of unrealized desire. I squeezed my legs together and scooted some more. This sofa wasn’t big enough for the two of us. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Do you want to kiss me or not?” He slid across the cushion, closing the space between us. “Ask me.”

I adjusted my weight on the seat. He tightened his hold on my fingers. God, even if I had wanted to flee, I didn’t think my legs would respond. Cocking his head, he rubbed his thumb across the inside of my wrist where my pulse was visible.

“I want you.” The words left my lips of their own accord.