"That ship has sailed," I snap.
"You’re still standing here, aren’t you?"
I pull back my shoulders. "Let me go, or I’m going to kick you in the balls."
Luca chortles.
Both Hunter and I glare at him.
He glances between us, then backs up a step. He turns and engages one of his brothers in conversation, keeping his voice so low I can only make out the odd word in Italian.
Hunter turns back to me. "You won’t knee me, Fire." His lips twist. "You have a vested interest in my balls, remember?"
A chuckle bubbles up, and I bat it away. "Ha! Keep dreaming."
He looks between my eyes. "And my dreams are always of you."
My heart jumps in my chest. My stomach flip-flops. Stupid, stupid, school girl crush that I have on this guy. I’m acting like I’m sixteen again. Strike that, I’ve never had such a crush on anyone, not even when I was sixteen. I was too busy laughing at boys who’d fall for me and ask me out, and then I’d turn them down. Like I did with him. Only this time, I can’t stop thinking of him. All the more reason to put this madness behind me and move on with whatever is next on my agenda and in my planned career trajectory.
"Hunter," I say in a low smooth voice. "Let me through."
"Nope." His smirk widens.
"If you don’t, I’ll—"
"You’ll—?"
"I’ll, uh, have to go through you."
"Please." He leans forward until the heat of his body envelops me. I shiver. My blood pressure elevates, until I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. Sweat beads my palms, but my mouth is annoyingly dry. To hell with this. I turn sideways, then ease myself through the gap between the door frame and his heavily muscled arm.
14
Hunter
She brushes past me, and for a moment, I want to turn and pin her in place against the door frame. And perhaps, she expects it, too, for she glowers at me. It turns into a look of surprise as I step back, then follow her down the corridor to the elevator doors. She stabs the elevator button, then turns on me. "What are you doing?" she hisses.
"What do you think I’m doing?"
Her gaze narrows. "Don’t do that."
"Do what?"
"Don’t think you can change my mind about our dating."
I tilt up my lips. "Wouldn’t dream of it."
"So, why are you standing here with me?"
"Why, I’m waiting for the elevator, of course."
She tightens her lips. "You—" she begins to speak but the elevator dings. The doors open to reveal an empty cab.
I clap my hand on the doors to hold them open, then jerk my chin toward the cab.
She opens her mouth as if to protest, then changes her mind and walks through. I follow her in and press the button for the ground floor. The doors close and the elevator begins to descend.
We stand in silence for a few seconds, watching the numbers count down. The orange blossom, vanilla scent of her seems to intensify. I curl my fingers into fists at my sides. Do not do this, do not. You’re going to stand for elections; you’re on track to become the Prime Minister of this country! You don’t need to screw everything up by risking your reputation. And what choice do I have? If I let her go now… I may never see her again. And then I’ll have lost the opportunity I had to feel her, hold her, touch her, kiss her…. Kiss her.