by Hazel Hunter
“The bandage is in the shelf behind the door,” she called back.
There was a clatter, followed by a yelp of surprise and Sophia grimaced.
“Sorry, it's been a little while since I cleaned that shelf off.”
She swallowed the pills and the water he gave her dutifully, and then watched in bemusement as he started to bind up her swelling ankle.
“Do you, um, make a habit of this?”
“Depends on what you mean,” he responded. “If you mean getting attacked by a waterfall of pink and green nail polish, the answer is no. If you mean rescuing damsels in distress, well, it's maybe happened a time or two before.”
His grin was easy and sweet, and she found herself returning it.
“Actually, I meant patching up the wounded. You're really good at it.”
“I'm not bad,” he said with a shrug. “I have friends who could have you dancing on that ankle before the clock struck midnight, but it'll do.”
Sophia looked down at her foot, which was bandaged expertly and elevated on the small ottoman that had been hidden under the chair. She wondered if he was a paramedic, or someone else who spent time picking up the wounded, but before she could voice her guess, she heard the man whistle.
“Well hello there, gorgeous...”
Sophia started to tense up. What had she been thinking, inviting a strange man into her home. But then she saw that his head was turned to one side. Her jaw dropped when she saw her tiny tortoiseshell cat sitting in the center of the room watching them both with her curious green gaze.
“She's a pretty one,” the man observed, and he offered a hand to the little cat.
Zora stretched out her neck to give the man's hand a delicate sniff, and Sophia braced herself for her pet to take a sharp-clawed swipe at him or to run straight under the twin-sized bed. Instead, she slowly rose to all four feet and paced a little closer to the man, ears up and tail waving in curiosity.
“Oh, that's a good girl,” the man crooned, caressing her head.
Zora dodged that hand neatly, but she drew closer still, looking the man over from head to toe before sitting down and waiting for him expectantly.
“Oh, I can pet you now? Thank you so much, your highness,” he said with a smile, and he scratched her behind the ears.
He glanced up, raising an eyebrow at Sophia.
“What, did I say something wrong?”
“No, it's just that she never, ever does this,” said Sophia in near awe. “Everyone I've brought to this apartment makes her hide in the closet or under the bed. Do you work with cats a lot?”
“No,” he said, but his smile was wistful. “When I was a boy though, they were everywhere in the villas. They'd be draped out the windows, hanging out in the courtyards, and some of them would even find work being charming on the gondolas, keeping the ladies company as their owners took the scenic route.”
“Gondolas? Are you from Italy?”
His smile was slow and dazzling, and for a moment Sophia thought that it was distinctly unfair that someone who was already so handsome should have a smile like that one.
“I was once,” he said, and he must have found just the right spot because Zora started to purr loudly, loud enough to make them both laugh.
“Will wonders never cease,” said Sophia. “Zora likes you.”
“Cute name. Though it does bring up the fact that I don't know your name, and you don't know mine, but now I know your cat's.”
Sophia hesitated, but before she could chicken out, she shook her head.
“Sophia,” she said “It's Sophia Chambers.”
“Dominic Berrett.”
He held out his hand, and she took it. He might have looked like a model, but his hands revealed that he was no stranger to hard work. There was a lifetime of labor there in the callouses and the toughness of his palm, and she could feel the strength that flowed through them. She realized that she had hung on to his hand too long, and let go self-consciously.
“Dominic doesn't sound very Italian,” she found herself saying, and Dominic shrugged.
“It is, but I haven't been Italian for a very long time. I came to America when I was really young.”
“I can sympathize with that,” Sophia said with a grimace. “But look, um, thank you for saving me, but you don't have to stay. You were probably on your way somewhere interesting before you had to rescue my dumb butt.”
“Nothing dumb about your butt,” Dominic said, and if there was a trace of flirtation there, it was buried under a look that was as innocent as a newborn lamb. “And you're wrong when you say I have plenty of more interesting things to do than to hang out with a beautiful woman. I'm in town for work, and let's just say it's not going well.”
“Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear that... wait, did you just call me beautiful?”
“I might have,” he said innocently. “After all, my mother always told me to tell the truth.”
Sophia's laugh was bright and surprising. She put her hand over her mouth in surprise, and she shook her head.
“You're trouble,” she managed to say, and Dominic quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Sometimes,” he admitted, “but believe me when I say that I will never be trouble for you. I'm not looking to make your life difficult, and I swear that I wasn't thinking about anything more than getting you home to see to your ankle tonight. As it is, I got to punch an asshole; I am talking with a lovely woman; and I’m enjoying the company of a friendly cat. As far as I'm concerned, my night's going well, and anything else is going to be a happy bonus.”
“A happy bonus...” Sophia said musingly. “How do you feel about hamburgers?”
“Love them,” he responded instantly. “Best thing to come out of American cuisine in the twentieth century.”
“The best?”
“I... might be exaggerating a little, but I do love them.”
“Good. If everything is a bonus, as you say, how about if I give you twenty dollars, and you run downstairs and next door?”
“To…the weird shopfront with the broken glass?”
“To one of this city's best kept secrets,” Sophia said with a grin. “Order two bison burgers, a limoncello, and whatever you want to drink. You're going to like this.”
CHAPTER FOUR
WHEN DOMINIC GOT back to Sophia's apartment carrying a bag full of delicious smells and two limoncellos, he was impressed with her and slightly alarmed.
“How did you ever go in there on your own in the first place?” he asked, setting the food on her coffee table.
She had set out plates, and at the moment, she was resting comfortably on the twin bed, her foot resting lightly on her ottoman. She was short and curvy, and in her layered cardigan and skirt, she looked adorably urchinish. Zora sniffed the food before leaping up on the chair, disdainful of human fare, and Dominic came to sit down next to Sophia.
“Oh, did Roberto give you trouble?” she asked, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Was Roberto the man behind the counter with the missing eye and no patch, or was he the man who looked like two of me sweeping up?”
“Neither. He's the guy who runs the grill in back, and sometimes he takes exception to...customers, I think.”
“There were broken tables piled against the side of the dining room. The whole place was lit with bare bulbs, and the only thing that told me it was a restaurant and not some kind of drug bust waiting to happen was a chalkboard with the special of the day on it. Which was just listed as 'fries.'”
“They're pretty no frills,” Sophia agreed, unwrapping the burgers. She set one on his plate and one on her own. As soon as they emerged, the filled the air with a deliciously savory scent that made Dominic's mouth water.
“How the hell do they stay in business?”
“Take a bite. You'll see.”
Dominic had eaten food all over the world, from Vietnamese street stands to some of the most amazing, secret, subterranean restaurants in Paris. He took a bite, chewed, swallowed
, and then, wide-eyed, took another.
“So, pact with the devil?” he asked after swallowing.
The burger was far and away the best he had ever tasted. It was simply meat on a pretzel bun, garnished with bacon and cheese, but there was a rich complexity to the flavors that belied its straightforward presentation.
“That was my guess, but then I started talking with Roberto one day. George, that's the guy with one eye, his dad owns a bison farm up north. They bake all the bread, they get the cheese from some secret place they won't tell me about, and they make all of the condiments by hand.”
“Jesus.”
“I know.”
They ate in companionable silence for a while, and Dominic found an easy restfulness in the meal that he hadn't had in a long time. He found himself being grateful that he hadn't gone home with one of the women he had seen close to the river. They might have been beautiful, and they might have had inviting smiles, but this girl was something else. Even if all he gained out of the encounter was one of the most amazing burgers he had ever eaten, it was enough.
Dominic finished his meal before Sophia did, and when she saw that he was watching her eat, she set the remainder of her burger down nervously.
“I...what are you looking at?” she asked
He shook his head. “You. You're...you're adorable, you know that?”
She laughed a little. “Story of my life. Hot guy calls my cat gorgeous, and I'm just adorable.”
“I also called you beautiful,” he pointed out, and she blushed.
Dominic couldn't remember the last time he had seen a woman blush, and instinctively, he leaned in towards her.
“I could call you a lot of things,” he said softly. His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it that was anything but playful.
“Could you?”
She looked up at him, and in that moment, Dominic was the one who could feel his breath grow shorter. Her eyes were wide and dark, and before, he might have said that they were a plain dark brown. However, this close to her, he could see that they were nearly black, but around the iris there was the finest rim of pale blue, shocking against the darkness beside them.
“Beautiful is just the start,” he murmured. He had to clear his throat because his voice was suddenly rough and hoarse. “I could say that your eyes were deep and full of secrets, and I could say that you have a face that would have made the sculptors of the Renaissance cry to sculpt you.”
She made a noise as if she didn't believe them.
He chuckled. “Don't believe me? Take it from one who knows. If you had stepped out of your villa, donna, they would have fallen at your feet, or chopines, I suppose I should say, back then. They would have wanted to cut your hips from marble, chisel the point of your chin from wood. Titian himself would have used a dozen shades of brown to do your hair justice.”
“Most men just notice the breasts,” she said, and he could detect a shakiness there, old hurts perhaps, or something deeper and darker.
“The breasts are amazing, don't think I haven't noticed,” he said reassuringly, “but without the rest of you, well. I've always been a whole-package kind of guy, and donna, you are the whole package.”
She sighed, soft as a summer breeze. He brought his hand up slowly to her face. When she didn't flinch, he brushed his knuckles against her cheek. Her eyes were wide, and she shivered at his touch.
“So beautiful,” he said, “and so brave too. You weren't going to give that mugger a single thing, were you?”
She jumped a little, and he cursed himself for bringing up that frightening incident.
“It's over now, and you are home and very safe,” he murmured.
She leaned in closer, swaying towards him. He could smell her, something sweet and spicy, and underneath it, her natural womanly scent, darker and sensuous. Sophia sighed, leaning against him, a soft weight against his side, as he set his arm around her. He was half-hard from her closeness, but there was something so tender about the way that she rested against him that he didn't want to disturb it. The low heat in his body curled into something finer, something sweeter, and he stroked his cheek against her head, making her laugh.
“Zora does that,” she murmured, and he nodded.
“Your cat loves you very much.”
They rested that way for several long seconds, letting the moment stretch between them. It was sensual, but more than that, it was kind, and finally, Dominic realized he had to break it. She murmured in protest when he stood away from her, and though her surprised expression made him regret what he was saying immensely, he stepped back.
“I'm sorry,” he said, a wry smile on his face. “You just had... a rough experience, and I'm not sure I am making it better. You're injured, and you are probably feeling not quite yourself. I am afraid that I would dearly love to take advantage of that, so…”
“So?”
“So perhaps it is best if I leave? Or, if you would like someone around to help you sleep, I can take the...” He looked around her small apartment, where the living space consisted only of a narrow bed, a desk and a wing chair, and finished lamely, “The floor?”
She looked at him, and he blinked because now there was a frank, challenging look in her eyes.
“What if I say I want something different?” she asked.
There was a daring sharp note in her voice that hadn't been there before. It made something inside him respond. His heart beat a little faster, and he had to swallow a bit before he replied.
“Then because you're obviously in charge, I would accede to your judgment.”
“Am I in charge?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
She sat as still as one of the marble statues he had compared her to, and the electricity between them crackled.
“I'm tired of being cautious, I think,” she said, almost to herself. “I'm tired of hiding, and I am tired of tucking myself away.”
“You never should,” he whispered, and though he might have been referring to her beauty, he realized with a soft ache that it wasn't just that. There was a fire to her that should never be hidden, no matter what was out there.
She stood up, and the folds of her skirt swept down, outlining the curve of her hips and making him all too aware that her legs were bare underneath.
“Your ankle,” he murmured, and she laughed a little shakily.
“Can barely feel it,” she assured him, and with one shaky step, she was pressed against his body, in his arms, and tilting her face up for a kiss.
“I'm in charge, and I want you,” she murmured, and he was lost.
CHAPTER FIVE
SOPHIA COULD BARELY believe what she was doing, what she was feeling, and yet here it was. She suddenly ached for the feel of his body against hers, and she wondered if that was the way she had felt ever since she had seen him. She wondered if this was what she had been waiting for without knowing it for years. The moment she stumbled into his arms, there was something so right about it, so perfect, that her brain tried to stop her.
You've only known him for a few hours, it tried to tell her. He could be anyone. He could do anything to you!
I want him to, she thought fiercely, and knew it was true.
She twined her arms around his neck, bringing his head down for a fevered kiss. The first touch of their lips was electrifying, and it was more than just an expression.
“Oh!”
Sophia pulled back blinking hard. The spark of static electricity that had jumped between them was enough to startle her, but Dominic gathered her against his body again reassuringly.
“Just the static in the air,” he said.
For a moment, she looked down at his boots and at her plain, hardwood floor. Suddenly his mouth teased the tender curl of her ear, and it made her squirm. The electricity seemed to have discharged, his mouth nothing but softness, nothing but heat and passion. She stood stock still, eyes fluttering closed, while his skillful mouth lapped at her lobe and then nibbled at it. He chuckle
d at her soft exclamation, and when she would have said something, he dropped his mouth to her neck, making her melt against him.
Sophia gasped a little in surprise when he sat down suddenly on the bed and brought her to sit on his lap. In that position, she could clearly feel how strong and muscled his thighs were underneath her. She shifted experimentally, and now it was his turn to gasp.
“You feel good there,” he said, looking up at her, and the sheer awe she saw in his eyes made her bold—far bolder than she ever had been before.
“I bet I know how I might feel better…”
Before he could respond, she turned and straddled his lap, letting her skirt ride up to her thighs. She followed his gaze, and smiled, because she knew what he was seeing. Her thighs were long, pale and muscular. When he reached to curl his hands around them, she purred with pleasure. She knew he could feel the muscle there, and from the stirring between his legs, she knew that he liked it.
She trailed her fingers through his blond hair, enjoying how thick and shaggy it was. It was a touch long for fashion, and she suspected that he was the type to simply run a brush through it and head out in the morning. He made a pleased sound deep in his throat when she carded her fingers through it. When she gave it a gentle yank, his voice dropped down to a growl.
His hands gripped her thighs a little tighter, and in response, she rocked against him longingly. Now she could feel the rough denim against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, and it made her breath come a little faster, made her press her face to the crook of his neck.
“Do you know what you want, honey?” he asked, his voice rough and intimate. “Do you know what you want with me, hmm?”
She did. She wanted the strength of his body around her, on top of her, filling her up, making her cry out the way that she dreamed of late at night. She wanted all of him, but the words were too hard to say, especially when one hand was tracing maddening patterns on her thighs and the other had found its way under the hem of her tank-top and was stroking the sensitive skin at her lower back.
