In Enemy Hands by Michelle Perry Page B

this touchy feely stuff I can take in one night. Let’s start over.”
    She walked to the bench and sat down, staring up at him expectantly.
    Dante looked puzzled for a moment, then he grinned. “Oh, okay … let’s see here.” He cleared his throat and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Hi, there, Miss Branson. I couldn’t sleep. May I join you?”
    She giggled and patted the bench beside her. “Yes, you may.”
    “I love this garden. It’s a beautiful place.”
    “This is the place I come to think.”
    They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Dante asked, “What were you thinking about, before I so rudely interrupted you?”
    “I was thinking about kissing you.”
    His eyes widened and his jaw dropped a fraction. Then he laughed. “You’re a straight shooter, aren’t you, princess?”
    “Does that bother you?” she asked, feeling a little defensive. She knew her personality did bother some men.
    “No, it’s kind of … refreshing.”
    Nadia smiled, but didn’t look up. He was sitting close, with his leg pressed against hers, and somehow even that small touch was comforting.
    “There’s one thing about me, Dante. Despite all my faults—and there are many—I never lie.”
    “Hmmm, that could be a good thing to know,” he teased, and finally she looked up at him, into the velvety depths of his eyes.
    “What were you thinking about our kiss?” he asked, then a funny look crossed his features, as if he were surprised he’d asked that.
    Nadia stared up at the bright moon and sighed. “I was thinking that I’d like to kiss you again.”
    She heard Dante’s sharp intake of breath and suddenly his rough fingers skimmed her face. With a tenderness that belied his appearance, he caressed the line of her cheekbone with his thumb. Part of her was screaming “run”, but another part had already lost that battle by the time his lips brushed against hers.
    He caught her lower lip between his teeth and gently sucked it. When his tongue began its hesitant exploration, Nadia parted her lips, welcoming him. She groaned when Dante’s hands grasped her hips and pulled her into his lap.
    Touching him was a marvel. Hard muscles covered by warm, soft skin. She ran her hands over his head, enjoying how the faint rasp of new hair tingled against her palm.
    The force of her desire stunned her. Everything in her wanted this man, and she knew little more about him than his name. She should pull away, save herself while she still could, but her body betrayed her.
    Dante’s mouth hovered at the racing pulse on her throat. The feel of his labored breathing against her neck and the heat of his hands through her flimsy silk nightgown were driving her to the brink of insanity. His rough fingers glided across the material, caressing her hips.
    An alarm blared, shattering the silence. Nadia jerked and nearly fell out of his lap. Dante’s hands closed around her waist, and he gently sat her aside.
    “Stay here until I see what’s going on,” he commanded.
    Nadia rolled her eyes.
Right
.
    She jumped to her feet and followed him. Dante turned to frown at her, but then she saw the resignation cross his face.
    When they went back in the house, she wasn’t surprised to find Nick already downstairs, barking into the intercom.
    He barely spared them a glance as he demanded, “Somebody talk to me. What’s going on out there?”
    “Sorry, boss,” Waynie’s sheepish voice crackled over the intercom. “It’s only me. I didn’t get the code punched in time.”
    Nick sighed and pressed the button. “All right, Waynie. Go to bed.” His eyes narrowed when he turned to them. “What are you two doing up?”
    “Insomnia,” Nadia said quickly. “I was showing Dante the garden.”
    Not to mention what I might’ve shown him if Waynie hadn’t tripped the alarm
, she thought, glad the room was dark and her father couldn’t see the blush creeping up her neck.
    “Go try to get some rest. You can show Dante around