“Shouldn’t it be which one is better for me?”
“There is no danger in my arms, Amber.”
There was…to her heart. But that danger was in the air around her since she’d met him, too. Not merely in his arms.
“Kiss me.”
“If I do, you know you will end up at my apartment.”
“I know,” she whispered, her head dipping so their eye contact broke.
He tipped her head back, refusing to allow her to look away. “Knowing that, you want my kiss?”
She nodded, incapable of explaining. But it felt right, to seal this thing between them here in the oldest part o
f the city that beat with the heart of the Catalan, with his heart. It might be reckless. It might even be foolish. But if she did not take this chance, she would always wish she had, of that she was absolutely sure.
His mouth came down, his lips brushing hers gently. Her eyes slid shut and her senses diminished to the hushed sounds of siesta in the city’s center and the fragrance of warm summer air mixed with old buildings. Then finally to the feel of his mouth on hers, exploring and tantalizing with each tiny movement.
She had expected a sensual onslaught, but what she got was a promise. The first bud of spring, the kiss of the summer sun on the pale skin of winter, a scarlet leaf floating to the ground to be the first in the splendorous autumn carpet, the first snowflake to fall on Christmas Eve.
She did not know how long the kiss lasted, but when he lifted his head, she felt claimed with a promise of pleasure that was so much more than sexual gratification.
She swayed against him and he tucked her into his side while flipping out his cell phone to call his chauffeur.
Her cell phone rang when they were in the car on the way to his penthouse. She dug it from her bag and noted the caller. “It’s my mom, I need to take it.”
Miguel nodded. “By all means.”
He had made no move to kiss her again once they had gotten in the car, but sensual energy shimmered between them, the tension so thick it should have made the air hazy.
Hoping none of that would show in her voice, Amber flipped the phone open and put it to her ear. “Hello, Mom.”
“Hey, sweetie…what’s this about meeting the man of your dreams?”
She was glad her mom’s voice wasn’t the kind to carry, but she turned a little away from Miguel anyway, switching the phone to her ear farthest from him. “I’ll tell you all about it later, Mom.”
She saw from the corner of his eye that he pulled his phone out and had started speaking quietly into it.
“Are you with him now?” Her mom was quick.
“Yes.”
“That’s wonderful, honey. What’s his name?”
“Miguel.”
“Miguel…” Her mom paused for a count of two. “Do you mean Miguel Menendez?” she asked, sounding shocked and maybe a little worried.
“Yes.”
“According to what I know of him, he’s never had a long-term relationship.”
“Neither have I.”
“He dates a lot more than you do, sweetheart.” Yes, definitely worried. And her mom hadn’t read that in the business journals, or maybe she had. Innuendo was not reserved for the tabloids only.
“It’s okay, Mom. Trust me.”