Until her.
With his strong, powerful hands, he clasped her waist and even as she gasped, he whirled her around to face him.
Their eyes clashed, hers filled with shock and his blazing with emotions.
If he didn’t feel so perilously close to killing the boy behind her, he would have teased her for staring so unashamedly at him.
Are you really here, those caramel brown eyes asked Angelo, and he heard himself say, “Yes.” When she looked at him, clearly bemused, he realized she was too innocent to know just what her eyes were telling him, and a crooked smile formed on his lips. Pure and seductive all rolled into one, Angelo thought wryly even while he strove to catch his breath and rein his erection back at the same time. He only had to look at her and his body lost all control over his cock. She was definitely going to have him wrapped around her finger in no time.
Lane’s heart was knocking hard against her chest. Oh gosh, gosh, oh gosh. They were the only thoughts she was capable of, and she knew, if Nellie could hear her now, she would be teased for being the ‘gauche gosh girl.’
But she couldn’t help it.
His ridiculously chiseled looks turned her mind into mush, and with him so close, she couldn’t help thinking he seemed so much taller, so much more gorgeous and powerful than she remembered.
But then she noticed something else—-
Something was off about him, she realized.
The slightly tousled look of his hair, the almost feral look in his eyes, and was she just imagining things or was Angelo Valencia breathing a little too hard, like he was panting?
Unable to think of anything that could make Angelo Valencia lose his legendary cool, her awe was replaced by concern and Lane blurted out, “Are you okay? You’re not breathing right.”
Angelo deliberately didn’t answer. Not in this lifetime would he ever let her know he had been so uncool as to run after her like he was shooting for the big climax of a Woody Allen movie.
“Ange—-Professor Valencia?”
His lips compressed, but he managed to keep his voice level as he murmured, “The seminar’s over. You should call me Angelo.”
Before Lane could answer, she and Angelo heard Josh make an incoherent sound of protest.
Angelo’s gaze swung to Josh, and the look he shot her friend was so vicious she heard Josh whimper like a kid.
He slowly turned to face her again, and not wanting him to give her the same look, she said quickly, “Angelo.”
His lips twitched. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“If y-you say so.” That look he gave Josh wasn’t exactly easy to forget, it had been downright terrifying. “But...are you feeling fine now?” He wasn’t breathing so hard anymore, but -—
She bit her lip, her anxiety returning.
One couldn’t be too sure...right?
“Maybe we should get you to a doctor—-”
Angelo was exasperated and amused, but underneath that he was reluctantly touched at her concern. She looked like she was ready to call 911 for him.
“If there’s anything I need right now——”
Relieved that she’d be able to do something to help, she asked eagerly, “What is it? I’ll get it—-”
“It’s you,” he said simply.
“Okay, I’ll get—-what did you say?”
“I need you.” His hands on her waist tightened. “I want you to stay here with me.”
Had...she...really...heard...him...right?
Lane slowly coughed. “Did you just, umm, say—-”
He only looked at her.
Oh. Gosh. Gosh, oh gosh. Lane was impossibly overwhelmed. She couldn’t have heard him say that. She must be dreaming—-
His lips twitched. “Tesoro?” She looked up, uncertain if he was talking to her, and he said, “You can touch me if you think it would help you believe this is real.”
Gosh.
Oh gosh.
GOSH.
Only Angelo Valencia, she thought dazedly. Only Angelo Valencia could definitely get away with saying something so provocative—-
Behind them, Josh said plaintively, “The bus is coming, Lane. We should go.”
She was about to answer, but then she saw the way Angelo’s eyes flickered so oddly. “What is it?”
“Lane, the bus is here.” The bus’ rumbling engine as it slowed to a stop partially drowned his words.
Angelo was staring at her like he was seeing her first the time. “Lane.”
Entranced at the way he said her name like it was magical, she breathed in the same tone, “Angelo,” thinking all the while that maybe this was an Italian thing between lovers or would-be lovers.
“Lane—-”
She was right. It was an Italian thing. So she repeated obediently, “Angelo.” Didn’t Italians love opera? Maybe this was some kind of custom and they’d break into a duet—-
“Lane. I never knew your name until now.”
Again, she echoed his words, “I never knew—-” Then his words sank in, and she gasped. “You don’t know my name?”
“Lane, we really should go now,” Josh called desperately behind them.
She and Angelo paid him no heed.
“How is that even possible?” She was genuinely confused. She was one of his students, for heaven’s sake.