Page 75 of The Proposal

Pushing up on my toes, I place my lips against his. I like being possessed by this man, and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s now standing in a place he swore he never would again, all because he thought I was in danger.

“Thank you for coming out here to rescue me.”

“I thought something had happened to you.”

“It did. A spider the size of a large cat ran up my arm.”

When I feel his body vibrate with laughter, I reach up to pinch his side. “Ouch.”

“Stop laughing at me.”

“The spider seems to grow in size every time you mention it.”

I blow out a puff of air. “I don’t think it bit me; I flicked it off as soon as I saw it. Was it poisonous? Pepi told me Australia has some of the most poisonous spiders and snakes in the world.”

“It’s true we do.” He takes a step back. “Let me look at your arm?”

I slide the fabric of his jacket off one shoulder as he leans in to study it. “I can’t see anything. Do you know what kind of spider it was?”

“A giant one,” I answer, which has him laughing again. “It ran under that chair,” I add, pointing.

I retreat a few steps when he lets me go and heads towards the sun lounge. He flips it over without a care in the world. “Just as I suspected,” he says, reaching out to grab it.

“Dante, don’t touch it.”

“It’s a harmless huntsman. They look more menacing than they actually are.”

He holds out his hand, and I sway on my feet when I see it nestled in his palm. “See.”

“Don’t bring it near me,” I screech.

He chuckles as he walks towards the edge of the tiled area and tosses it onto the grass. As much as I don’t like that thing, I’m kind of glad he didn’t kill it.

“Come,” he says, approaching me and reaching for my hand.

“I’m sorry I forced you to come out here.”

“It’s fine. I survived it.”

Those words hang heavy on my heart. Last time he was out here, he nearly didn’t.

“My only concern was you and your safety.”

Those words have my throat tightening. I’m not used to feeling so protected. “Thank you.”

As we go to exit the pool area, he leans down to scoop up my towel. “What’s this?” he asks when he spies the book that is lying underneath it.

“Umm.” He straightens and arches an eyebrow when his gaze meets mine. “Lucia must have left it here.”

He smiles smugly. “You were reading it, weren’t you?”

I lift my chin. “I don’t like what you are implying,” I grumble as I snatch it out of his hands and begin storming towards the house.

He barks out a laugh, which has me growling under my breath.

“Bellezza,” he says, coming up behind me and wrapping his hand around my elbow. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

I pause, turning to face him. Ashamed is precisely how I feel … or maybe embarrassed is a better word.

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