Page 10 of Wicked Takeover
He lingered on her mouth before raking over her boobs and legs, as if they were alone and he had the right.
His manner should have disturbed her, but instead she was aroused and dizzy with need. Although she was technically the boss, with a look, Dante had taken command.
“It’s only stuff.” He shook the bag. “Come on before your food gets cold.”
She didn’t know what to say or how to argue. He’d included her so easily, making Lauren a team member with people she already liked and would eventually tear apart, sending each on his or her way. Never seeing them again.
Especially him.
That shouldn’t have bothered her, considering they didn’t know each other, but already she felt comfortable in Dante’s presence and inexplicably drawn to him.
His scent drifted close. The fragrance made her stomach flutter with excitement, but it was soothing, too. Everything about him was so wonderfully big and protective. She loved the way he treated Jasmina and Van Gogh with true affection. That was more important to her than his killer good looks. Dante seemed like a good guy. One of the few she’d met in her life.
Of course, she wasn’t privy to all his moods. Dating, falling in love, and marrying changed people big time. A work relationship was fun because deep intimacy wasn’t in the equation, nor was having to commit to forever-after, including the good and bad.
She had to remember that and keep her head around him.
Yet the heat simmered persistently within her.
…
For a workplace lunch, Dante was definitely enjoying this one. He scooped half his food onto a clean plate, placed it in front of Lauren, and sat across from her.
She twisted in her chair to take in the back room.
Although the area was snug, it had an open, airy quality thanks to Van Gogh’s wall-to-wall murals. He hadn’t left a single surface untouched. At first, he’d wanted to paint his rendition of the real Van Gogh’s Starry Night or Sunflowers in here. Dante, Frank, and Jasmina had nixed that, suggesting something less weird and more pleasant.
Van Gogh had grumbled but conceded and truly outdid himself.
Above them, his work created an illusion of a high stone ceiling pitted with age. He’d designed the walls to give the effect of sitting on a stone terrace, its graceful arches laden with flowering vines. The purple, pink, and white petals appeared to dance in an invisible breeze. The 360-degree view showed the sea stretching endlessly in every direction to mountains in the distance.
Lauren’s lips parted, naked delight and wonder on her face.
At last, she behaved like the person Dante sensed she was. A good woman capable of deep feelings, possibly willing to take a risk and have a good time…once she ditched the corporate clothes and loosened up.
He sensed there wasn’t anything put on about her. He liked that. She certainly wasn’t an outrageous flirt like most women he met.
And best of all, she had the kind of looks he favored.
He ate his enchilada but barely tasted the beef, cheese, and spicy sauce. Instead, he focused on Lauren and indulged in his fantasy about her welcoming smile and warmth. Both would offer more than excitement. They would give a man the comfort he truly needed.
She looked at him.
He smiled, probably more intimately than he should have. But even a gun to his head wouldn’t have stopped that.
Her face and throat blazed red. She stared at her plate but didn’t eat. Exactly how he’d behave when faced with a vegan meal or a salad.
He licked sauce off his fork. “You don’t like enchiladas?”
“I love anything Mexican, but you gave me too much.”
Dante hadn’t given her anything at all, at least not what he sensed they’d both enjoy: having fun in bed and out. He wanted to get to know her on a deeper level. Hell, if they became friends, he wouldn’t complain. There was something about her…
“This is your lunch.” She pushed her plate to him. “I can’t accept all of this.”
“It’s only food. I can always get more.” He eased it right back. “Come on, no more excuses. Eat.”
“But I’m not— Okay, fine.” Face flushing, she nibbled at her meal.
